Mixed Signals
by pretense
Summary: It lies not in our power to love or hate, for will in us is overruled by fate. - Hero and Leander, Christopher Marlowe
1. Just to show

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters. I am not profiting off this fic. This is a work of fiction. You know the drill.

**A/N:** Originally, I wanted to write a KagaTaka fic but my shipper heart is leaning towards other things. Let's see what happens :)

••••••••••••

**Prelude**

_Just to show that there is no escaping fate_

••••••••••••

Takao clutches at his stomach, air squeezed right out of his lungs as near-hysterical laughter spills into the evening. It's one of the coldest winter nights but he's comfortably warm.

"Oi, stop laughing, damn it!" The reprove is ineffective, considering the humor underlining the half-hearted attempt to quiet him.

One look at the matching twitches on Kagami's lips and brows hauls even more raucous laughter from Takao. A couple of passersby look at him funny but he ignores them in favor of slapping Kagami's back. "But that's just freaking hilarious! I can't believe he flat out said it! And the nerve of those guys to back him up!"

"It must be senioritis," Kagami says, grinning as he gives in. Noticing Takao's confused face, he explains, "It's a thing, you know, when third years get close to graduating and they can't think straight so they start spewing weird stuff."

"Can't think _straight_," Takao snickers.

"Then again, Tatsuya probably has it out for me." Kagami shoots a balled-up Maji Burger wrapper into a waste bin. He'd been carrying it with him from the store where they had a late dinner.

Takao whistles as the balled up paper goes in. "Two points to Seirin."

"Shut up," Kagami mutters as they turn the corner, entering the last stretch of road before the train station. At the lack of a witty comeback, Kagami looks over at his companion - Takao's eyes are glinting with mischief. "What?" he asks, heat creeping over his cheeks as Takao shows him his phone with the camera app at the ready.

"Why don't we give them something to _really_ talk about?"


	2. These numbers

••••••••••••

**Chapter One**

_These numbers represent a countdown_

••••••••••••

Takao is a bad person. _Despicable_, says a voice in his head that sounds a lot like Midorima. After all, he really shouldn't be harboring these thoughts, these feelings – they're not healthy. Not to mention counter-productive. And if there's anything Midorima hates, it's letting good things go to waste.

The game is down to its last stretch and things are getting intense. Insanely so, if Takao has anything to say about it. Playing against the Generation of Miracles is one thing, but to see them play _each other_… It broadcasts loud and clear how way out of his league they are.

Spectators venture to their area from neighboring courts, every other game paused in favor of watching the showdown of epic proportions. The slam of the worn rubber ball on pavement rings loud and clear as the crowd collectively holds their breath in anticipation.

Murasakibara provides a screen and Akashi passes the ball to Midorima. The clock ticks down to four seconds and the ball soars from deft fingers, a perfect arc towards the hoop. There's a reverent silence when the basket counts a split second before the buzzer sounds, tying the score for their second overtime.

"Nice shooting, Shin-chan!" Takao shouts from the bench, breaking the silence. His throat is dry from the simmering heat but none of it registers when Midorima's sharp gaze finds him and his ace acknowledges him with a nod.

"Damn you, Midorima!" Two identical shouts come from the court. Kagami and Aomine, who, upon realizing that the other had shouted the same thing, redirected their frustrations. "Stop copying me, bastard!" "No, _you_ stop copying me!"

Midorima slides his glasses up the bridge of his nose, muttering, "Fools, the both of them."

"Now, now, don't argue." Kise slides himself in between his teammates. He pushes Kagami and Aomine apart with a palm on each chest, but the duo's glares remain unbroken over his head.

"Mou~ This is getting boring." Murasakibara yawns, pushing his hair out of his face with one hand while the other rummages through his pocket. Crumpled candy wrappers spill on the floor until he unearths a yet-uneaten lollipop.

Akashi watches him with a frown, lowering the handkerchief he'd been using to wipe the sweat from his neck. He opens his mouth to say something but someone else beats him to it.

"Atsushi, don't litter on the court," Himuro admonishes, coming up from the sidelines. The high heat of the afternoon doesn't appear to affect his naturally-occurring fluidity.

"Sorry, Muro-chin," Murasakibara says around the lollipop. He folds his impressive height into a squat as he helps Himuro pick up the brightly-colored plastic sheets. Himuro rewards him with a smile.

With Murasakibara taken care of, Akashi turns to Midorima. "This match is going to continue being a stalemate. We'll call it a draw for now." _And let's get out of this sweltering heat_ remains unspoken but it's evident in the way he wipes at a bead of sweat before it soaks into the collar of his shirt.

Takao jumps up from his seat after Riko and Momoi, the women agreeing with Akashi's non-suggestion and calling the game set. As the players head back to the benches to get some shade and drinks, Takao's focus lingers at the back, where his – no, _Shutoku's_ – ace and Rakuzan's captain are taking their time. Reflexively, his arm curls tighter around the diaper-wearing baby rabbit that stands as Midorima's lucky item for the day. There's that feeling again, bubbling up in his stomach, an ugly acidic thing that has no place in this new atmosphere of rekindled camaraderie that he's blessedly (_undeservedly_) a part of.

It's good that the Generation of Miracles' middle school dispute has been laid to the ground, that they can all enjoy basketball again – _very fortunate indeed_, Midorima would say if he was in any way inclined to express his true feelings about it. Takao can see how much happier Midorima is these days, how much more dedicated he is in keeping his practice regimen because he now has a good reason (a very healthy one, at that) to push himself farther, to rise to an unreachable level of talent… One that Takao wholeheartedly wants to match. He wants to never lose sight of Midorima Shintarou.

"Shin-chan, catch!" Takao yells, throwing a cold can of red bean soup at his teammate… maybe-intentionally-not aiming a little off-target.

From seven feet away, Midorima acts on reflex, grabbing the tumbling can with both hands like he would a basketball. "Takao!"

"Hehe!" Takao flashes a half-apologetic grin and adds a peace sign for good measure.

Akashi raises a brow at him. From the thin line of his lips Takao _knows_ that Akashi sees right through him.

Ah, he really is a bad person.

••••••••••••

Kagami's still undecided whether living alone is a blessing or a curse.

Given that there's no restaurant with enough seats to accommodate all of them even if it's just for snacks, it was unanimously decided that they'll crash at Kagami's place for a while. Their other option is to let Akashi "deal" with the shopkeeper of whichever restaurant they choose and nobody is exactly comfortable with the idea.

More than a dozen teenagers file into his apartment and Kagami thanks the heavens that Alex is back in America for the time being. Himuro leads Murasakibara to the kitchen and Kagami joins them after telling everyone else not to touch anything. Mitobe and Koganei volunteer to help out in food preparation which makes Kagami grateful and gets Momoi and Riko pouting when a resounding "NO" comes from the group at _their_ offer to help.

"Can we at least watch TV? Or a DVD, or something?" Aomine grumbles, dawdling by the home entertainment system while everyone else tries to settle down somewhere.

"Daiki, sit down," Akashi says, having claimed the detached sofa seat. Somehow his mere presence makes the blandly sleek furniture look like a throne. Midorima stands behind him, cradling the day's lucky item on the crook of his elbow like it's a live young.

"It's okay, Akashi-kun." Kuroko picks up the remote and turns on the TV. "Kagami-kun won't mind as long as we put things back in order."

From the kitchen, Kagami rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

"Ooh, can we watch this, then?" Kise pulls out a case from the DVD rack, showing it off to a sea of unimpressed faces.

"We're not watching that." Riko steps up and returns the case. She puts a finger on her lips as she chooses a different film.

"This one!" Momoi points to the exact title that Riko had been eyeing, taking it out and presenting it to the room with a flourish.

Seated beside Touou's Sakurai, Takao nudges the jumpy brunet. "Typical, ne?" To which he gets a flustered "I'm sorry I've never seen this movie before!" in reply.

"Wow, really?" Aomine plops down as the DVD player loads the disk. "Me neither."

"Then, hopefully, this will be an enlightening experience for all of us," Akashi declares from his not-throne.

Hyuga looks over at Riko, brows rising to his hairline but he remains mum. Teppei is the brave soul who dares to ask the question that's hanging over everyone's head, "Ah, so you've never watched it either, Akashi-kun?"

Even the kitchen-people stop what they're doing to hear Akashi's reply. Nobody turns their head to look, as though not-seeing would make them less guilty, but their ears all strain to hear the answer.

"No."

The Menu Screen shows up and all noise resumes. Everyone gets into position to watch; those who can't squeeze themselves on the couch settle on the floor. Kuroko selects play, getting comfortable with his bag on his lap. Nigou pokes his head out as the zip opens.

Looking over from where he's setting drinks on a tray, Kagami grimaces. "What did I tell you about that dog, Kuroko?"

"Ah, shut up, it's not doing anything." Aomine smirks, anything to rile up his rival.

Sensing a friend, Nigou wiggles out of Kuroko's bag and jumps over to Aomine. He's greeted with a friendly ruffle between the ears.

Kagami sniffs and turns away. He catches Himuro's eye and gets a consoling smile from the older teen. Himuro taps Murasakibara's shoulder, asking for the cookie butter spread at the back of the cabinet – his personal stash since Kagami hates that thing and makes it a point to hide the jar when he isn't around.

As Koganei cleans up, Mitobe cuts the sandwiches they prepared into quarters, stacking two whole loaves' worth of it on a large platter. He had just placed the last square on top when Murasakibara picks it up, chews it once, then swallows.

"Nobody's going to get full from that," Murasakibara grumbles, eyeing Mitobe with great disappointment. "You should make bigger portions, hm."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"Ah, Mitobe says getting full on sandwiches wouldn't be good since it's almost dinnertime," Koganei chips in as he sets the last of the clean utensils on a rack to air-dry.

Murasakibara is definitely not sulking when he turns away from the silent hook shooter. "… Muro-chin, I'm gonna eat my candy now." He digs into his own purchases before Himuro can stop him.

Izuki, Tsuchida, and Seirin's incoming second-years get up to help distribute food and drinks. Kagami sits on the island counter, munching on his personal stack – a meatloaf sandwich swimming in condiments that prompts Murasakibara to use Himuro as a shield against the travesty and makes Kuroko morally obligated to call out how it's "so very American of Kagami-kun."

"Well, I'm not forcing you to eat it," Kagami tosses back defensively, holding the plate closer to his chest. "And I made your stupid shake, didn't I?"

Kuroko takes a sip of the homemade vanilla shake and smiles serenely. "Yes. I appreciate it very much, Kagami-kun."

Kagami shoves as much of the sandwich that he can get into his mouth and looks away. When he looks up again, it's to find Kuroko whispering something to a very confused looking Aomine who then leans back and shakes his head. Nigou barks happily when Aomine feeds him a sandwich square and Kuroko's attention is completely diverted from the movie. Not like Kuroko was a movie sort of guy, anyway, Kagami figures, having been told one too many times by the shorter teen that the books are better than the movies.

They're a noisy bunch of movie-watchers but it's not like they understand the spoken dialogue, anyway. Akashi is sitting back with his fingers steeped together, watching what is essentially a children's movie with eerily intense focus. Kise is undoubtedly live-tweeting the movie with the way he's constantly typing on this phone. On the couch that the Seirin students have claimed for their own, Koganei and Tsuchida are discussing the movie at-length, guffawing every now and then when they remember the comedic parts – that is to say, most of the film. Riko and Momoi are also under discussion but of a more heated type regarding the game play depicted and instead of underclassmen listening in with interest they have Hyuga and Teppei serving as buffers.

Having seen the movie too many times to count, Kagami opts to people-watch instead. It's not something that he does often given his one-track mind on basketball but he's feeling superbly at ease right now – like he always does after a good blood-pumping game. They _are_ supposed to be resting, in any case. His heart is still beating faster than usual, body still heated to the core. He knows he reeks of sweat, but then again, don't they all? Showering can come later. He surveys the room at large and not for the first time, he wonders how things would've been if he went to middle school in Japan and not America; if he and Tatsuya never had that falling out; if things would've turned out different had he faced the Generation of Miracles at an earlier stage. That last one Kagami knows the answer to: he wouldn't have stood a chance.

Passion for basketball alone could only get him so far, he knows that now. He looks at the Seirin team and his heart swells with pride, with a rightful sense of belonging. His eyes focus on Kuroko and his heart leaps to his throat. Nothing would've been possible without him. Kagami knows that it was never meant to be him, that Kuroko could've chosen anyone to be his new light, but he's infinitely grateful that he _is_. Wanting to be stronger for yourself is entirely different from wanting to be strong for someone else. Kagami looks to his side where Himuro is leaning back against the same counter he's sitting on, Murasakibara's arm not-so-subtly cushioning Himuro's recline.

Partners.

They could've been that once, him and Himuro. They had been closer than anyone he knew, bound by shared love for the sport but that love had been tainted – tainted with jealousy and blind devotion. It all seemed unsalvageable by the end of the Yosen-Seirin match at last year's Winter Cup but when Kagami had given up, Kuroko had not. It's all thanks to Kuroko that Kagami got the courage to reach out again, to fix what he'd naively thought to be over.

Kuroko seems to be an expert at those kinds of things – repairing friendships, keeping hope that everything will turn out right. Kuroko is amazing, not just on court, but off of it, where it really counts. Kagami watches him now, surrounded by his middle school teammates – _friends_ – and not for the first time he wonders if Kuroko sees him on the same level. He wonders if he is someone Kuroko would go to great lengths for, if he's worth something – anything at all – to his teammate, partner, friend.

(Maybe something more.)

(Hopefully.)

"Tetsu."

Kuroko turns to Aomine and is greeted with Nigou's paw bumping his nose. Aomine cackles loudly at having successfully played his trick. Kuroko smiles through his reprimand, "You should watch the movie you insisted on having Aomine-kun."

"Yeah, well, these guys are a bunch of jokes." Aomine jerks his head at the screen, setting Nigou back on his lap.

"Really? Those Nerdlucks kinda remind me of a certain group," Kagami mutters loud enough for Too's ace to hear.

"What did you say?" Aomine turns around to face him, brows knitted together.

"You heard me." Kagami returns the glare with a smirk.

A burst of laughter rings out from the middle of the living room. Takao stands up, chortling, "Ah man, someone finally said it!" He side-steps Sakurai, shielding Kuroko and Aomine from Kagami's view as he walks past them. "The color scheme is a little off, though," Takao says, bumping his empty cup to Midorima's shoulder. "Right, Shin-chan?"

Midorima fixes Takao with a look, pursed lips speaking for him.

Takao takes it in stride. "I'm getting a refill, need one?"

"No, thank you."

"Suit yourself." Takao shrugs, making his way to the kitchen. He gives Kagami lopsided grin as he passes.

"Muro-chin, does that make me the purple one?" Murasakibara asks.

"I'm thinking you don't like him?" Himuro ventures.

Murasakibara shakes his head. "He's not the tallest so it can't be me. And the little red one should've played the leader so it matches Aka-chin."

Himuro politely covers a snort with one hand and the whole room cuts itself short from letting any more than a quirk of humor escape. Even Aomine has enough common sense not to laugh out loud; he faces the TV and sits still. It lasts for a few seconds then he's leaning over to Kuroko and saying something in an undertone that gets Kuroko's shoulders shaking in silent laughter.

Kagami gobbles up the last piece of his sandwich a little more viciously than necessary.

"So you and I are in the same boat, huh?"

Takao laughs when Kagami nearly falls off his seat, offering a smile in apology when Seirin's ace glowers at him.

"What are you talking about?" Kagami grumbles, swallowing his food.

Takao drinks up, meaningfully leaving his eyes clear over the rim of the cup so he can stare some sense into Kagami. It takes a quick glance over to the front of the room and arching up his brows for Kagami to get the right idea.

"It's not like that," Kagami denies even as his ears turn red.

"Mm-hm, yeah, it totally is," Takao grins wider. "I don't see anyone else getting homemade milkshakes."

"What are you trying to say?" Kagami narrows his eyes at the shorter teen.

Takao shrugs, leaning on top of the counter. "It takes one to know one, that's all."

Kagami blinks, then swerves to look at where Midorima has pulled over a barstool to where he's sitting beside Akashi. Beyond Teikou's ex-captain-and-vice-captain pair, Kagami sees Kuroko and Aomine playing with Nigou. "… Yeah."

"I mean, it's good that they're not out to kill each other anymore" – Kagami gives him an unimpressed look and Takao revises – "In a manner of speaking. But, man, it's like middle school all over again. I _hated_ middle school, just so you know," he adds.

"It's not like they're untouchable," Kagami says, trying to be helpful.

Takao snorts. "Easy for you to say, Mr. Super-High-School-Level-Jumper."

"_What_?"

Takao waves a hand at him. "Never mind." Figures the guy doesn't have a life outside of basketball. "Let me put it this way: in a comic book world, people like you and the Generation of Miracles are the big damn heroes. Me? I'm just a sidekick. Do you _know_ how many Robins Batman has disposed of in his career?"

"Uh… I can't say I do." Kagami turns in his seat to face Takao properly, his back to the movie and his guests. "But, ah–" he scratches at his cheek "–sidekicks can turn out to be heroes, too. In a way they're already heroes in their own right."

Silver eyes shine as Takao tilts his head, fluttering his lashes. "Aw, aren't you sweet? Why don't you give me your number and maybe I'll call you back."

"Oh. Okay." Kagami takes the proffered phone and is in the middle of typing his number when it hits him. "Wait, what?"

Sputtering laughter spills from Takao. "Aw, man, and it was going so smoothly, too!"

"_Were you coming onto me_?" Kagami hisses while his whole face burns. He checks to see whether Himuro or anyone else close by is looking - they aren't, but he keeps his voice to a minimum nonetheless.

"Just save your number," Takao urges. "You're the one who started it, with that whole sidekick-hero crap."

"I'm pretty sure that was you," Kagami says, blush receding as he returns the phone.

"Mm, maybe." Takao types in a name and saves his new contact before pocketing his phone. "But any maiden's heart would've totally swooned at your lines." He winks. He's about to leave when Kagami holds him back with a tap on the shoulder.

Kagami extends his phone over to Takao. "Your number."

"My, my, what for?" Takao preens as he takes the mobile and punches in his cell number.

"Just to make sure I know who's going to be prank calling me in the middle of the night," Kagami replies.

"I would _never_." Takao puts a hand to his chest in mock-hurt. He returns Kagami's phone and returns to his spot in the living room, not once looking back.

Midorima shifts slightly, dropping a hand into the outer pocket of his bag, pretending to search its contents. Florescent light glints at the edge of his glasses as he scrutinizes Kagami from his periphery. Takao took an awful long time in getting a refill but nothing seems to be out of the ordinary in the kitchen. Midorima straightens up, holding his lucky item a little closer than before, just to be sure.

The movie finishes and everyone stretches out their limbs. Nigou has fallen asleep and Kuroko carefully swaddles the pup with his dirty laundry before closing the gym bag with his pet in it. They say their goodbyes – Himuro's not staying over this weekend since it's enrollment period at Yosen – and Kagami closes the door, savoring the blessed silence.

Kagami's first order of business is to take a shower – a long and hot one, to relieve the stresses of the day. He takes a nap before dinner, after which he cleans the dishes that have piled up since that afternoon. His phone buzzes with a new message just as he's finishing. Drying his hands on a wash cloth, Kagami picks up the device and reads the series of messages he'd been ignoring the past twenty minutes.

**From: Takao**  
**Subject: Tai-chan~!**  
:: Shin-chan's abusing my love for him again! He beat me at rock-paper-scissors and now I have to cart him home! Not only that, but he invited Akashi over which basically makes me their chauffeur! Do I look like a chauffeur, Tai-chan?

**From: Takao  
Subject: Re: Tai-chan~!**  
:: We're stuck in traffic right now and I will never get over the shame of driving a rickshaw in the middle of Tokyo. Also, Shin-chan has graciously decided NOT to include me in what is surely some riveting conversation that the two of them are having behind my back.

**From: Takao**  
**Subject: Re: Tai-chan~!**  
:: AKASHI. HAS. A. CAR. WAITING. AT. SHIN. CHAN'S. HOUSE.  
:: I. AM. SO. DONE. RIGHT. NOW.

Kagami exits his mailbox, frowning and wondering what had gotten into his brain for him to willingly subject himself to this curse. The phone buzzes in his hand and Kagami decides that he won't stand for it any longer, he's going to tell Takao to stop flooding his inbox and –

**From: Takao  
Subject: Re: Tai-chan~!**  
:: Do you believe that first loves never die?

Kagami chokes on air, staring at Takao's message on his screen. Where did _that _come from? The phone buzzes again.

:: I do. Saw it with my own two eyes.

He sighs. Who knew that basketball players could be so dramatic?

Curses. Blessings. Different sides of the same coin, really. Kagami hits call.


	3. Probabilities

**A/N:** I forgot to tell you guys I have a mixtape for this on 8tracks! Link is on my profile now :D Enjoy the KagaTaka~

••••••••••••

**Chapter Two**

_Probabilities_

••••••••••••

"I think," Kagami pants, dribbling the basketball between his legs, trying to find an opening. "You're delusional." _There!_ "There's no way–" he fakes right and drives for the hoop, dunking the ball with a satisfying creak of the scoreboard. "–he'll ever go out with me."

"I don't think you're even trying," Takao says, taking the ball and making a fast break for the other end of the court.

Kagami watches him go for an easy lay-up.

The height of Takao's jump gives him just the right distance to throw the ball in but there's a little too much force in his release. The ball skims around the metal ring, almost falling out at one point before finally falling into the net.

"And I think you're trying too hard," Kagami comments, crossing the court in large strides until he's five feet away from Takao.

Ball held against his chest, Takao passes to Kagami. Earth scatters from where the ball bounces off the court floor on its way to Kagami's hands. "How mean, Tai-chan." Takao wipes the sweat off his neck and face using the collar of his t-shirt. "You're supposed to compliment your partner on dates. Not criticize them."

"This isn't a date," Kagami huffs, palming the ball. He starts his next play with slow, measured dribbles.

"Have you ever been on a date?" Takao asks, getting into a defensive position.

"A few," Kagami admits, holding out an arm to block Takao as he charges over to the far-end.

"With Yosen's ace?"

Kagami skids to a halt, almost losing the ball to Takao's swipe. He quickly turns away, taking advantage of the other's limited reach and going for a three-pointer. The ball misses and Kagami pins Takao with a glare.

The shorter teen wears a smile with no remorse. "Oh, right, Yosen. Double aces. Pfft. My bad. Let me ask that again; did you–?"

"No, Takao, I did not go out with Tatsuya." Kagami grits out, getting the ball and throwing it to the other teen.

"But you wanted to," Takao fishes.

"No!" Kagami wishes he'd aimed the ball at Takao's head.

"Oh, so _he_ wanted to." Takao starts dribbling as he pieces together the story.

"What does that have to do with me and Kuroko?" Kagami gets into the defensive with furrowed brows.

"Well at least you can admit that much," Takao muses. "It has to do with a lot because I'm trying to figure out what you're lacking."

"Me? Lacking?"

"Yep. Initiative to be exact." Takao tries to fake a shot and then run for it but Kagami blocks both attempts. "See all this focus you got? You just need to apply it to more pressing situations."

"I don't even know if he likes me," Kagami grumbles, hating how much he sounds like the lovefooled teen that he is.

"See, that's your problem." Takao passes the ball past Kagami, running around Seirin's ace and catching the ball. He makes for another basket but Kagami stops it with a steal. Takao stands back and adjusts his headband. "You don't like taking risks. You get too comfortable with a guy, put him in one category and keep him there. Think outside the box, Tai-chan."

Kagami twitches at the nickname but Takao refuses to call him anything else. "You sound just like Tatsuya," he mutters, making his shot.

"Well he got it right, I mean," Takao shrugs, a bit of a leer tugging at his lips. "He snatched up _his _Miracle, didn't he?" His smile grows at Kagami's pointed stare. "The rest of us lowly fools can only hope to be half the ikemen that he is."

"Why don't _you_ take your own advice?" Kagami asks, passing the ball.

"As a matter of fact I do."

"And?"

"Shin-chan's not budging." Takao gets the ball spinning on the tip of his pointing finger. "I mean, I pick him up, cart him to and from school, I carry his lucky items around, _and_ I stay after regular practice hours to practice _even more_ with him. I think nothing less of a marriage proposal would get through to that man." The ball drops and Takao dribbles it, setting up a rhythmic pace. "Do you think I should ask for his hand in marriage?"

"You're in high school!" Kagami retorts, incredulous.

Takao shrugs. "Details."

Kagami shakes his head, "I don't even get what you see in that guy."

"Well, good," Takao replies. "Because if you truly got to know Shin-chan you'd want him, too. And I really don't need another Miracle to compete with."

"Speaking of, why aren't you with your better half?"

"Because he's busy with his online gaming," Takao says.

Kagami is confused. "Really? I never took him for that type."

"He isn't," Takao grudgingly admits. "But _apparently_ there's Shogi Online now and _Akashi _needs decent competition."

"Oh." Kagami tries to find other words of consolation but all he can come up with is, "That sucks."

"Yeah." Takao deflates, dribbles ceasing and he catches the ball. "You hungry?"

"When am I not?"

They pack up the ball and empty their water bottles. As they're leaving the court, they squabble over where to eat since there's a long avenue of food vendors around the corner but Kagami's craving Maji Burgers.

"You can't always eat Maji Burgers," Takao protests. "And I refuse to be dragged into your cholesterol-infested world."

"Because street food is a lot healthier." Kagami counters.

"Fine, fine, I can compromise." Takao pulls at the sleeve of Kagami's sweat-soaked shirt. "We pass through my store first and I'll get take out. Then we can go to Maji Burger."

"Fine by me."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Their gazes lock and they cough to cover up their snickers only to laugh even harder when their eyes meet for a second time. Busy with avoiding the other's eyes, they nearly collide with someone on the street if not for Takao's timely grip on Kagami's arm to halt him.

"Oh, hey, Kagami-kun and… Takao-kun."

They look up to find Kiyoshi smiling down on them.

"Ah, Senpai, hey." Kagami nods while Takao gives a quick bow in greeting beside him. "What are you doing out?"

"Just running some errands," Kiyoshi answers, holding up the shopping bag in his hand. "And you two? No, wait, don't tell me." He goes over their outfits and sweat-damp hair.

"Well, what else could we be doing?" Takao grins and it's a proof of how much time he'd been spending with the Shutoku player that Kagami catches the underlying innuendo. Takao's innocent smile remains static even as Kagami elbows him in the side.

"Not to be rude, but I figured you'd be with Kuroko-kun," Kiyoshi nods at Kagami. Turning to Takao, he adds. "And you're attached to the hip with Midorima-kun, aren't you?"

"Kuroko can't feel his legs."

"Shin-chan's enjoying himself in front of the computer."

A long meaningful second passes where Kiyoshi stares unblinkingly at them and Kagami mentally curses Takao and his contagious perverted mind.

"Because of yesterday's drills! Kuroko's – uh, just tired."

Takao's realization comes a split second after Kagami's outburst. "Gaming! Online gaming, you know? Ahaha." He fails to snuff out his giggling and resorts to hiding behind Kagami until they're manageable again.

"Well, it's good that you two are helping each other out during these trying times," Kiyoshi says wryly once Takao is able to face him. "Ah, don't let me stall you. I'll be on my way. See you Monday, Kagami-kun." He nods. "Takao-kun."

"Yeah, sure." Takao chirpily waves goodbye as Kiyoshi crosses the street.

"I am so dead," Kagami deadpans once his upperclassman is out of sight and hearing range.

"Why's that?" Takao asks perfunctorily as he browses the window display of the shop closest to them.

"Who knows what's going on in that guy's head?" Kagami stresses. "What if he makes assumptions?"

"People always make assumptions, there's nothing to do about that." Takao decides he doesn't like the shop's menu and moves to the next one, Kagami trailing after him.

"Well, yeah, but what if he thinks that we're…" Kagami makes vague hand gestures.

Takao straightens up and purses his lips. "I am highly offended that you wouldn't want to be mistaken as my boyfriend, Tai-chan." His hair does a little flip as he turns away, strolling towards the adjacent store. "Do you_ know_ how many confessions I get every week? How many I have to turn down?"

"You're no Kise Ryota, so I'm counting zero," Kagami answers, shoving his hands into his pockets as Takao looks at the next window's display.

"You wound me." Takao shoots Kagami a doe-eyed look. "I'll have you know Kise-chi thinks I have impeccable fashion sense!"

"How come he's _Kise-chi_ and I'm _Tai-chan_?" Kagami demands.

"'Coz I already have a Ryou-chan; y'know, from Touou." Takao waves a hand in the air. "Now I've got a real question for you: are you out?"

"Well, Alex knows. And Tatsuya. And you." Kagami counts off a finger for each name, grimacing. "It's not like anyone's asking specifically."

Takao hums, finally finding something to eat by the fourth store. He calls out his order and turns to Kagami once more. "Kise-chi suspects you," he shares. "Then again, he does suspect everyone. He wants to play matchmaker for me and Shin-chan but, well…" Takao grins ruefully. "He's just too dere-dere for my tsun."

Kagami shakes his head, he still doesn't understand a lot of Japanese expressions but the matchmaking part is enough for him to get the gist of it. Kise the matchmaker spells a lot like trouble.

"Kise-chi gets along fine with Kuroko, though," Takao starts, paying for his food as they resume walking. "I can maybe let slip something about a certain Tai-chan and…"

"God, no," Kagami scowls. "The last thing I want is for everyone and their mother to know about my desperate non-affair with my shadow." When Takao's snickers turn into full-blown laughter, Kagami just rolls his eyes, bumping shoulders with the shorter teen. "Ah, shut up."

"Lights and shadows," Takao huffs, blowing on a steaming piece of takoyaki before he bites into it. "Guess we'll have to see which set is better, huh? You'll have to forgive me if I'm partial to my team."

"Only a couple more games until we meet at the Semis…" Kagami grins down at Takao. "I won't accept heartache as an excuse if you don't bring your A-game."

Takao returns his smile. "You can count on it."

••••••••••••

Shutoku reigns as the InterHigh champion, generously paying back Rakuzan for their defeat in their last match-up. Third place is taken by the Blue Elites, much to Himuro's chagrin as Yosen's captain; he vows revenge in his final Winter Cup and Murasakibara starts wearing his hair in a ponytail most practice days.

The shrill sound of a whistle cuts through the air, jolting the teens loading their luggage into the bus.

"Hurry up," Riko urged the team, insistently tapping one foot on the ground. "We've got a lot of training to do if we want to show our faces with dignity at the Winter Cup this year." They were so close to victory but whatever growth they had was apparently doubled by the other teams; Touou's especially, with their fifteen-point lead in the semifinals. This is her last chance to hold the championship title with the team she had helped create and like hell that she'd graduate with anything less than a first place trophy on display.

"Kagami, stop texting and help load the bags," Hyuga shouts, weak morning sunlight glinting dangerously off his glasses.

"Sorry, Captain!" Kagami hastily shoves his phone into his pockets, hauling the remaining four bags to the bus' luggage compartment in one go. His pocket vibrates but with Hyuga still in sight and seething, Kagami deems it best to wait until the ride has started before reading his new message. Hoping to get out of his Captain's wrath, Kagami ducks into the bus while Kiyoshi gleefully pats the top of Hyuga's head and tells him not to be so grumpy this early in the morning.

Aida Kagetora gives them his usual warning about disrespecting his beloved daughter, brandishing his gun at the cowering first years and Kagami not-so-fondly remembers the time when he'd been at the end of that barrel. They pile into the bus with the freshmen taking the seat farthest from the coach.

Izuki does a headcount to ensure that they're all there only to stop when he finds they're one person short. "Um." He narrows his eyes, trying to make sure he counted correctly, turning to Riko, he whispers, "Coach, Kuroko isn't here."

"Check the seat beside Kagami," Riko says, busily looking for her notebook where she records the team's training regimen, she knows she packed it in here somewhere. It'd be no good to go to camp without it. "If he's not there, ask Kagami."

Shaking his head, Izuki walks over to where Kagami is leaning across the aisle, conversing with Furihata.

"Okay, my bad," Kagami is saying as Izuki approaches. "I _may_ have misplaced your CD the other day." He remembers Takao going through his music collection the last time he was over. Damn kid should learn to put things back where they belong.

"Do you at least remember where you left it?" Kawahara asks, headphones resting around his neck, muffled j-rock music blaring.

"It's probably in my other bag at home. I'll get it back to you after training camp." Kagami punctuates that promise with a grin. He makes a mental note to ask Takao about the CD.

"Oh, you better," Furihata gripes. His frown disappears upon noticing a fourth party to the conversation. "Izuki-senpai."

"Has any of you seen Kuroko? We're about to leave." Though Izuki is asking the question to the second years en masse, his eyes are focused on Kagami.

It must've been comical to an outsider, the way his peers automatically turn to him for an answer. Kagami lifts himself up with a knee on his seat, searching the bus for his partner. "He's not here," he concludes, lips pulled down in concern.

"Go look for him, then." Riko jerks her head in the door's direction, training journal in hand. "We don't want to be late."

Kagami has long-since learned to follow the coach's orders without question, disobedience (or even mere grumbling) will only get him extra drills. He excuses himself and heads out the door, racking his brain for where he'd last seen Kuroko when he bumps into someone on his way out the doors.

Blue eyes, wide with surprise, draws Kagami out of his stupor and into action. He makes a grab for his teammate, an instinct to protect overriding everything else. In his haste, he loses balance. Gravity pulls him down but honed reflexes get his free hand grabbing the nearest post for support.

There's a gasp and a gust of wind that ruffles his bangs into his eyes. Kuroko blinks, looking up at Kagami who's holding him to his chest. So that's why it's so warm, he muses, gauging their position and finding himself amazed at the steep incline to which they're hanging by the bus entrance. The tips of his shoes are barely touching the edge of the first step.

"Damn it, Kuroko, don't just show up like that," Kagami complains, brows pulled together as he stares down at the guy.

"I thought it was time to leave," Kuroko replies in a leveled tone, fists curling into themselves to resist holding on to the collar of Kagami's varsity jacket - because who knows if he can stop himself from going further if he gives in to that.

"Yeah and I was looking for you." Kagami realizes too late how redundant his statement is. He blinks down at Kuroko, willing the blush of his embarrassment to disappear. "Well, now you're here."

"And you idiots are blocking the doorway." There's something lethal in the calm tone Hyuga uses. Or maybe it's the way he looms over them, shadows over his eyes. Behind him, Kiyoshi looks a bit too amused by the events.

Kagami and Kuroko hastily disentangle themselves, shuffling to their seats under the knowing (and humored) looks of their teammates.

_Sheesh_, Kagami grimaces as he takes the window seat and his phone buzzes again. He decidedly ignores the new message as Hyuga steps up front and pins him with a Look.

Seirin's captain does a final check of the bus passengers. Once assured that they have everything, Hyuga sits down and the bus starts moving. It's going to be some two hours until they reach their camp so he replaces his glasses with an eye mask, shouting for the team to quiet down before he settles in.

Furihata and Kawahara plug in their headsets, nodding along to rhythms that only they can hear, behind them sits Fukuda who's tapping his pen on a pocket Sudoku book. The first years in the back row are hunched over their portable game consoles, muttering curses and challenges under their breath. Up front Riko is cheerfully discussing the seventh level of Dante's Inferno – also known as their new training schedule – with Kiyoshi who's nodding appreciatively (not like he has a choice). Behind them are the other third years who, left to their own devices, are pulling pranks on their sleep-deprived Captain.

With everyone else's attention diverted, Kagami pulls out his phone and finds two new messages.

**From: Takao  
Subject: Re: You are officially my lucky charm!**  
:: Don't be like that! :P We won it for Tokyo, so in a way, it was your win, too~  
::Oh I know! I'll give you a thank-you-for-watching-us-wipe-Rakuzan's-asses kiss at camp! We're already on the way. You?

Kagami rolls his eyes but he's grinning by the time he sends his reply. His expression is enough to pique Kuroko's interest.

"Kagami-kun is enviable," Kuroko says. "Managing a social life in addition to school and basketball."

"What are you talking about?" is Kagami's defensive reply, holding his phone face-down.

"I'm not going to read your messages," Kuroko points out, a little annoyed that Kagami thinks that of him. "That would be rude. And I'm not prying."

But the pout Kuroko unconsciously wears tells Kagami how infinitely curious he is. A part of Kagami is thrilled at what this might mean but he squashes it down in favor of being objective. "It's just Takao," he informs the other teen. There's no reason to hide it, after all. "He won't shut up about their win yesterday."

Kuroko nods. "I see." When the phone buzzes again, he adds, "We should give them a proper congratulation when we meet at the training camp."

They're a little late in scheduling because their first years had a lot of things to build on before Riko's father deemed them capable of surviving his daughter's exhaustive regimen. One benefit of that was being able to watch final matches of the Interhigh and gauging for themselves what they need to prepare for in the upcoming Winter Cup.

Kagami smiles at the memory of Shutoku's performance at the finals, he got so riled up just watching that he had to blow off steam at the nearest street court for a couple of hours following the game. The thought of playing practice games with the reigning champions is enough to get him heated up. He grins at Kuroko. "You just read my mind."

Kuroko silently wishes that he could do just that when Kagami turns his attention back to his phone, eyes crinkling in humor that Kuroko isn't allowed to share. He wonders what they could be talking about, who and why. His own phone is silent in his bag.


	4. When you can't win

••••••••••••

**Chapter Three**

_When you can't win_

••••••••••••

Watching the first years' struggle to keep their footing on the sand delights the upperclassmen. Riko plants her hands on her hips and shouts at them to keep moving.

"Those muscles aren't going to develop themselves!" The coach shouts, picking up the ball that's gone out of bounds and throwing it back to the team.

It's the second day of training camp and their practice match with Shutoku is scheduled in the afternoon. The morning's training started at dawn where they jogged along the coastline. When the sun had risen substantially, Riko procured a basketball from the gym and set up a match by diving them into teams of four.

The drill works on their leg strength and ball-passing abilities. Kuroko slumps with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Izuki claps him on the shoulder, wearing the smile he's patented when he's about to impart a particularly witty pun.

"Don't start, Izuki," Hyuga cuts in, panting. "We're two points behind." He turns to Hajime, one of their freshmen, and calls for a quick huddle. "Steal the ball then shoot if you've got an opening; otherwise pass it to me."

They all nod and Riko gets the timer going, counting down the last fifteen seconds.

Bare feet move on the heated sand, kicking up particles as hands scrabble for possession of the ball. Before they know it, Riko's whistle sounds and the winner is declared. It's Kiyoshi's team who will be facing Mitobe's for the final round.

Kagami cracks his knuckles, almost scaring the two freshmen he's got on his team with Mitobe. "Alright!"

They play until the sun has reached its apex and their stomachs are grumbling. The losing teams' punishment is to cook lunch while the final match takes place. Mitobe's smile is a little more radiant that usual at their win while Kagami's pride is of the more boisterous kind. He barges into the dining room, drowning out the noise with his exclamation.

"Man, I'm hungry!"

Almost immediately, there comes a reply. "Hi Hungry, I'm Takao!"

The Shutoku group chokes on their food in abrupt laughter. The second years around Takao stare at him as Kagami whacks him behind the head as he passes. Takao grins to himself and resumes eating.

"You're awfully friendly," Midorima says as he puts down his bowl and chopsticks.

Takao pauses mid-sip. He lowers his drink and turns to the shooting guard. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Don't."

There's an edge in Midorima's tone that quiets Takao's joking nature. He knows what not to do when Midorima gets all prissy like that and in any case, they have too many an audience should he dare to press the issue. Takao just shrugs, "Whatever you say, Shin-chan."

Kagami consumes three servings of lunch plus that side dish that Kuroko refuses to eat. They're given one hour to prepare for the practice match and this time, Riko lets Kagami participate. The two schools have their warm-up together then huddle at their benches for a pre-game strategy talk. Shutoku's starting line-up is led by their new captain Jenrya. With him are two more seniors and the team's own light and shadow. Over at Seirin, Hyuga skips the pep talk in favor of rearranging their lineup; they all know who they're dealing with.

Midorima leads the charge, playing like he's trying to prove something. When his fourth three-pointer sinks in, he cuts his gaze to Kagami who gives him a smirk in return. It irritates him. Even Akashi has told him that Kagami is simply another Aomine but Midorima had never felt such animosity with his former teammate. He acknowledges Kagami's skill, deemed him worthy enough to become a rival but there's something more. Something he can't quite put into words.

Kuroko steals the ball from Shutoku and passes to Kagami but Takao intercepts it. Takao finds a split second to send Kagami a smug grin before whipping around and driving the ball towards his ace.

"Shin-chan!"

The ball slams into his palms and Midorima feels his sense of purpose renewed. He aims and shoots, perfect form ingrained in muscle memory. The Iron Heart is too late in attempting to block this attack.

Takao comes up to Midorima as the ball sails for the hoop, offering a grin and fist. "Nice shooting!"

The gesture is familiar and at the same time foreign. It gives Midorima the chills when he bumps his fist with Takao's. A small smile manages to slip through. "Naturally."

The net swings, releasing the ball and earning them another three points.

Kuroko dries his face with the sweat band around his wrist, watching the exchange and feeling unnerved. Kagami halts beside him as the rest of Seirin get into their offensive positions.

Kagami doesn't seem surprised by the display and he doesn't seem vexed at all that Takao had stolen the ball from them earlier either. He even looks eager.

As they join the team's strategic play, Kuroko wonders about the other things Shutoku's shadow might be stealing.

••••••••••••

Out of habit, Takao wakes up at five-thirty on the dot. On normal school days he'd wash his face, go down for breakfast and then have a shower. Once he's dressed, he'd hop on his bike and make his way to Midorima's where the man and his cart will be waiting. They'll stop by Midorima's usual antiques store if the day's lucky item isn't already on hand.

He rubs the sleep from his eyes, stretching out his back and arms as he sits up. Given the size of the varsity team, five to six people are assigned to each room. Takao shares this one with Midorima and three other second-years, none of whom are awake yet. He takes a moment to watch his partner. Even in sleep, there is a certain rigidity to Midorima's features; as though a good night's rest is an art to be perfected.

And speaking of rigid things…

Takao bites his bottom lip, well aware of his body's natural reaction to his own sweet dreams, fueled further by having their protagonist in the futon right beside his. Long lashes are fanned over smooth skin that looks soft to the touch. Takao very badly wants to do so but he resists; he's not worthy. Even when he's prone in sleep, Midorima is untouchable as ever. So Takao slips out quietly, tiptoeing to the bathroom where he can take care of his business in peace.

He tucks himself back into his shorts, exiting the stall with as much dignity as a man who'd just jerked off to his best friend can. He's washing his hands at the sink when the door cracks open and someone peeks in. In the back of his mind, Takao wonders if this is supposed to be a sign or something.

"You could've been a little quieter," Kagami grouses, setting his cup and toothbrush one sink away from Takao. He fills the cup and goes on with his morning routine.

Apparently, his shame left him to elope with his dignity. Takao finds a leer stretching his lips. "Waiting on me?"

"Shaffup," Kagami says, brushing his teeth. Accidentally walking in on that sort of thing happened a lot back when he was in America; it's not exactly surprising.

Takao shrugs. He splashes water on his face, raking wet hands through his hair to keep his bangs at bay. "What're you doing up so early?"

Spitting out his gargle, Kagami rinses one more time before answering. "I dunno. I just woke up and figured might as well do a little jogging. You wanna come?"

_I just did_, Takao's mind supplies but he holds that thought and instead goes with, "Sure."

The owner of the inn is outside, sweeping at fallen leaves. They greet the old man good morning before going on their way, already changed into running shoes.

It's been a long time since Takao has been to the beach and he savors the salty air that wraps around him. Sunlight is unobtrusive at the early hours, rising from the sea and dispelling the cold. They run the length of the coastline in an even rhythm that gets his blood circulating properly. At the end of the run, they stop by a convenience store. Kagami tells him he took innumerable trips to the place last year to get drinks for everyone while they had their practice game.

As it happens, Takao finds money in his pockets. He could almost hear his mother complaining how he needs to store his finances properly and not forget them wherever. So far, Takao has rediscovered bills tucked in his jackets, pencil case, and even the pages of his comics. He browses the aisles and smiles when he finds a section of red bean soup drinks.

Kagami crinkles his nose at the chilled can Takao brings to the counter. "Soup?"

"It's Shin-chan's favorite."

By the time they return to the inn, most of their teams have already woken up. They part ways and Takao heads to the kitchen to store his purchase in the refrigerator. He helps set the table and that's where Midorima finds him.

"You've gone somewhere," Midorima starts. Seeing the sweat drying on Takao's skin, his brows furrow a little but he makes no comment.

"Just did a bit of running," Takao explains. "You didn't oversleep, did you?"

"Of course not." Midorima pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I woke up in time for Oha-Asa's broadcast."

"Really? So how are Cancers faring today?"

"Dismal."

Takao pauses in the middle of arranging cups and bowls to take a good look at Midorima. There's a nervous edge that highlights his unnatural pallor. "You got your lucky item, right?"

Midorima purses his lips. "I drank the last of it before bed last night."

Sitting back, Takao has to wonders if Scorpios are topping the charts for the day but dares not ask in the face of Midorima's despair. "Red bean soup? That's surprisingly easy."

"To be precise, Oha-Asa suggested to have my comfort food on hand." Midorima says that like it's going to be his last meal. "I have already checked the vending machines on site and they don't have it. We'd have to go out and buy one now."

The urgency in Midorima's tone is as amusing as it is endearing to Takao. He wants to throw his arms around the teen and kiss him like a mother would her precious child. There's inexplicable calm in his psyche when he pats Midorima's shoulder (the most contact he could allow himself) and tells him not to worry. "Lucky for you, I found a convi while I was running the beach strip."

"Really? How far is it?" Midorima perks up. Takao could almost imagine sparkles in those enlivened green eyes.

"Hehe, right this way." Takao stands, leaving the table setting to the first years and leading Midorima into the kitchens. Shutoku's ace is understandably confused when he produces the chilled drink from the refrigerator.

Taped fingers handle the can as though it's some holy grail. Midorima stares at his partner like he'd just revealed the answers to the universe.

"Aren't I awesome?" Takao beams. "I would've bought more but I didn't have my wallet with me. We could go back later–"

"No, this is fine." Midorima interrupts. "Thank you."

At that moment, Takao could die happy.

••••••••••••

Jenrya barks orders as Nakatani crosses his arms and assesses his team. With three of his starting five having graduated the previous year, it was nothing short of a miracle that they've held up through the InterHigh and claimed the coveted title from their most formidable opponent in the past season. In a way, having a slew of never-before-seen players, each with their own set of enviable skills, has been the key to their success. They won't be having that advantage in the coming Winter Cup, however, so it would be wise to train his players to develop their playing style further.

They're on their last set of sophomore sprinters and Takao is more spirited than usual. He touches down on the end of the court and quick feet carry him to the starting line in a mere six seconds. Kinoshita hits the stop clock, and gives him his time, the two of them high-fiving at the amazing record.

After the individual workouts comes the team practice. They're split into groups of three with the starting players distributed among them. The eight teams are further divided into two blocks to decide which side of the court they'll be playing. Midorima's team is part of the first match-up for the A-Block. Takao watches him avidly from the sidelines of the B-Block court.

Midorima has gotten better at socializing. People aren't as wary of him and there's a lot of trust invested in him as the team's ace. If nothing, he has the whole team's respect and that in itself goes a long way. His practice team consists of a third year and a second year. Even with the other team's strong defense, Midorima's shooting is unstoppable.

Takao's team isn't as lucky. His teammates are decent shooters but leave a lot to be desired. They manage to scrape through the first round by a two-point lead but they're overwhelmed by Jenrya's team in the semifinals.

The final match-up is between their captain and their ace. It's a hardwon game but by virtue of a well-executed free-throw, Midorima's team secures the top spot, winning themselves an exemption in cleaning duties for the next day.

"Looks like your luck has turned around," Takao pipes up as Midorima takes to the bench beside him.

Midorima indulges him with a smile. "It has."

••••••••••••

Since Shutoku has taken the court all morning, Seirin makes use of it the entire afternoon. Their final practice match is scheduled for the next day, the last day of the training camp.

Kiyoshi claps his hands to garner the team's attention before Riko explains the exercise regimen she had come up with for each of them using the data gathered from the previous days of camp.

With Kagami's jumping prowess having literally reached unimaginable heights, he's tasked with balancing that strength with aerial ball handling. He works on passes and receives with Izuki, Fukuda, and Furihata, whose game record is on a steady increase. Under the hoop, Hyuga coaches Kuroko on better shooting techniques with Kawahara and Mitobe on defense. Kiyoshi, Tsuchida, and Koganei focus on the first years, imparting knowledge on the famous run-and-gun play that Seirin has become known for.

Riko ends practice at five, giving them enough time to rest before dinner. The team files out of the gym, complaining about aching muscles and agreeing on the benefits of power naps.

On a corner of the court, a lone man remains sprawled on his back, towel draped over his face. Kagami squints up at the ceiling lights, vision finding focus on the face that's grinning cheekily at him.

"I just had the best day ever, Tai-chan!"

"Ugh." Kagami swats Takao's hand away and the towel flops back over his face. "What are you doing here?"

"Well I just _had_ to tell someone or else I'd explode." Takao squats down beside Seirin's ace. "Remember the drink I brought this morning? Turns out it was Shin-chan's lucky item! And because I acquired it for him, he was especially nice to me today~"

"Lucky item?" Kagami scoffs, pulling the cover from his face and to give Takao an incredulous look. "It's surprisingly not big and obnoxious."

Takao sticks his tongue out.

"You weren't spying on our practice now, were you?" Kagami asks.

"What would be the point when we're going to face off tomorrow anyway?" Takao cocks his head, grinning. "Be prepared to be annihilated." Their score is tied at one-all.

Scoffing, Kagami sits up. "Yeah, whatever. You can't even dunk."

"Is that a challenge?" Takao leans in.

The quiet gymnasium is interrupted by the squeak of rubber soles and purposeful thump of the basketball on court. Kagami plays defense to Takao's attempt to prove that he can dunk. He stares down Shutoku's point guard with a smirk. "Any time now."

"It's called strategizing," Takao replies, standing still as he dribbles with his right hand. He goes for a drive but Kagami sticks to him, not letting him get into form. Takao doesn't give up though; it's not in his vocabulary to quit. Takao feels like he can do anything right then and so he does.

Kagami backs away when Takao charges in spite of his block, he goes for a steal but Takao has predicted that move. His opponent swiftly turns heel and goes around him. Kagami stands back, feeling a misplaced sense of pride at being outwitted.

Recklessness will be one way to put it but Takao has been running on endorphins all day and he's never felt so free. He puts everything into that jump, slamming the ball in and gripping the hoop with white knuckles. He hangs over Kagami as the ball drops, practically radiant with the lights shining down on him.

"Stop looking so happy, it's obscene."

"Obscene is listening in to a guy jerking off in the bathroom."

Kagami sputters. "I was NOT!"

Swinging a little, Takao calculates the distance if he falls to the ground. Then he thinks of a better idea. "Catch me."

Takao's happiness – the insanity – must be infectious because Kagami doesn't hesitate in opening his arms.

As with all poorly thought-out plans, their execution fails entirely… but at least they didn't break any bones. Neither of them are exactly thrilled to be explaining any injury to their respective coaches.

Heaped on top of Seirin's ace, Takao laughs until tears collect at the corner of his eyes. "Oh my god, I've caught the stupid!"

"That's my line!" Kagami interjects, snickering. Their laughter combines and fills the gymnasium, sweat-sheened bodies shaking with the hysterics.

Wiping at his eyes, Takao works on steadying his breaths. He pushes himself off Kagami and lies on the court beside him, chuckling to himself at the definitive romcom-quality of that moment. One of his ex-girlfriends was a big fan of those and Takao has to admit he's collected quite the array of admittedly cheesy lines and dating tips. His face muscles are hurting by the time he calms down enough. His next words come in a sigh. "You cannot imagine how happy I am that you're here, Tai-chan…"

By this point, Kagami has surrendered to the nickname. He turns to Takao, propping himself up on elbow to look down at the Shutoku player.

A silhouette retreats from the half-open gymnasium doors, tight-lipped and with an even tighter grip around the can of lukewarm red bean soup. Midorima doesn't need to hear any further. He walks back to the inn proper in silence, thoughts buzzing as a vice clamps over his chest. It's not until he walks into his room that it finally hits home.

"Midorima… Are you okay?" Ueda asks, sounding half-afraid to do so. "D'you need to lie down?"

"I'm fine," he replies in what he presumes is his usual indifference.

"I don't think you are," Kinoshita protests, putting down the manga he's been reading.

Teammates look after each other on and off the court is what Takao always tells him when the shorter teen goes out of his way to do things for Midorima. The memory of those times brings a bitter taste to his tongue and Midorima tries not to openly grimace. "I just over-practiced." A filthy lie. He knows how detrimental that could be and Takao insists on regulating his solo shooting every time but… Takao… Takao is sprawled over Kagami, too-close for casual friends… Kagami leaning over Takao who's lying on the court, about to say, to do something…

His two roommates look at each other, concerned. Ueda speaks up, "…You're shaking all over, Midorima, and…" He bites his lip, nodding at Kinoshita to finish his statement.

"You look like you're about to cry."

But Midorima doesn't. What's left of his wounded pride doesn't allow it.


	5. Broken mirrors

••••••••••••

**Chapter Four**

_Broken mirrors give false reflections_

••••••••••••

Riko doesn't feel quite right about their win. Even as the bus takes them home, her thoughts are confined within the four walls of the gymnasium. Shutoku's players were in top condition but their game play lacked something big, something crucial. Analyzing these sorts of things are her forte but she can't quite put her finger on it at the moment. What's more, even her players can tell that their winning game was a bust.

Kagami is missing his satisfied grin, looking uncharacteristically pensive as he stares out the window. Beside him, Kuroko's eyes look a bit deader than usual.

Their conversation on the matter was over in three lines.

"Hey, what's wrong with Midorima?" Kagami asks while storing Kuroko's luggage in the bus compartment – the last one for their group.

"I don't know, Kagami-kun. By the looks of it, neither does his team." Kuroko looks Kagami in the eyes, trying to read beyond the tough-guy exterior. "It is most disconcerting."

Kagami nods in agreement. "Takao is worrying his head off, the poor guy."

To that, Kuroko only hums. The Shutoku point guard was certainly distracted during their game, allowing Kuroko a wide leeway for his drives and passes, practically handing the win over to Seirin. If he is to be honest, it looked like Midorima had reverted back to how he was two years ago at the height of Teikou's glory days. It's no wonder that Takao has been thrown into a loop – everyone had moved on to better lives and, ideally, nobody should've relapsed. But for some reason Midorima did and, despite not getting along splendidly with him, Kuroko is worried about what this could mean.

Sometime later, Kagami falls asleep, still propped up against the window, brows furrowed. Kuroko watches the play of light over tan skin, wondering how warm it would feel if he was given permission to touch. Their arms are pressed between their seats and Kuroko could lay his head on Kagami's shoulder if he just leaned a little closer. He wants to, after such a tiring couple of days – he wants to listen and feel the way they would breathe, synchronized, the way their very psyches fit together, drawn to his true light's aura as he is.

Kagami kept in pace with Midorima's single-minded attacks, scoring point-for-point until the last few seconds where he dunked right over Midorima's head – a red phoenix soaring over green flames. Midorima had fallen as an after-effect of the dunk, refusing the hand Kagami offered him. Right now, Kagami is wearing the same expression as he did then – confusion with a mix of worry.

Oh, the things Kuroko is willing to do if he knows for sure that it will help.

••••••••••••

The fall semester starts and their minds are momentarily distracted with school work. There are projects and tests that chip off their recollections of the incident at training camp.

Midorima has profusely apologized to the coach and the entire team after the game, willingly surrendering his three special requests per day for the following week. He'd remained quiet the entire way home and didn't reply to any of Takao's increasingly concerned messages the whole weekend.

Envy is a foreign concept to him, at least in the sense that he is the one experiencing it. Midorima is well-aware of the general public's perception on him, his skill, and his epithet of being the Generation of Miracle's number one shooter. Jealousy has always been directed at him and he finds it easy to deflect until that night when it seeped into his very veins. This sort of resentment is a poison that came from within.

Takao is playful and Kagami isn't the smartest guy around – juvenile, being a common factor between them. So, yes, their friendship shouldn't be surprising. Birds of a feather, as the saying goes…

Midorima had gone looking for Takao that night bearing a brilliant idea. He would transfer his cleaning free-pass for the last day of training camp to Takao; a fair trade for the lucky item Takao had procured for him. He was brimming with excitement and it took all his self-restraint to keep up appearances. It was suspicious enough that he was asking his teammates about his partner's whereabouts when it was usually the other way around. His sources led him to the gym – unoccupied, he assumed, having passed the Seirin team on his way there – and how he wished people had some decency to close their doors.

Initial shock engaged his self-preservation instincts and he retreated from the site. He ignored Takao's curious stares throughout dinner – no doubt that Takao had heard about his god-awful state from their roommates – and purposely faced the wall as he slept.

The morning of their final practice match, Midorima was reluctant to step foot inside the gym. It was only by the virtue of Takao's quiet question – the thousandth one he'd received since last night, asking if he's alright – that Midorima forced himself to take the final step. Maybe he was overreacting to nothing, but the sting of betrayal has paralyzed the rational part of his thinking.

In the end, what hurt the most is the unwavering trust Takao has shown him. The guy has no idea, no clue that he is the root of all this pain but he still stood by his ace, his light. Midorima only has himself to blame.

••••••••••••

These days, Takao doesn't complain when he loses at rock-paper-scissors. He dutifully hauls Midorima's lucky item onto the rickshaw and pedals them through the busy streets of Tokyo. He remains chatty even though it's like talking to a brick wall. His one condolence is that Midorima isn't completely ignoring him.

It blows his mind how everything turned a complete one-eighty in the span of – what, one hour?

Seeing Midorima revert to his self-centered play honestly scared Takao but he could do nothing except keep playing his best. If that was how their ace played his game, then it was his duty to support it. Of course, their loss was a slap to the face.

Takao trains harder, pushes his body further. Midorima can't be the only one to blame for their poor performance. One more slip-up like that and they'll be out of the Winter Cup without even knowing it. He works hard for his team, for himself, for the fervent wish that Midorima would rely on him again. He'd _earned_ the prestige of being the ace's shadow and he'll win it over and over again if he has to.

Gradually, Midorima loses the clipped tone he'd adapted as a defense mechanism. Weeks fly by before he lets the smallest of smiles show when he thinks Takao has turned his attention elsewhere after cracking one of his jokes. They're small victories, but victories none the less.

One lunch period after their winter break, Midorima sets down a jar of pickled vegetables on the floor beside Takao. His parents had gone to Korea on a business trip and they remembered that he has this friend who likes kimchi, he explains with a push of his glasses. Takao's smile can hardly contain his relief; he takes the item for the truce that it is.

Having won the Inter-High, Shutoku is an automatic contender for the Winter Cup. It's not surprising that the rest of the Generation of Miracles' schools also make it to the competition; there's a general consensus among sports fans that the finalists and winners will merely rotate among them until they all graduate. Then Japan will brace itself for the collegiate competitions.

••••••••••••

"You're terrible," Midorima says, bland but not cruel.

Takao scowls, arms crossed as he looks up from worksheets between them. "Well, _so_-_rry_." English is one hell of a language and Takao can't find the will to learn a third one when his mother is still insisting that he perfect his spoken Korean; that's what happens when your parent comes from mixed descent.

Midorima gathers the papers and reference books that lay open on the table, turning pages to show his study partner where he'd gone wrong.

"Noo~ Forget that!" Takao moans, upper body slumping over the kotatsu, effectively halting Midorima's actions. "Let's do something else, Shin-chan!" It's getting late but he doesn't want to go home just yet.

Red pen in hand, Midorima raises a brow at Takao. "Like what? We're not totally exempted from turning in our assignments, Takao. Most of these are due next Friday."

Blowing at the strands of hair falling into his eyes, Takao looks over at the orange sitting at the corner of the table. It's bigger than his fist and it's Midorima's lucky item for the day. More than once, Takao has entertained the thought of peeling it and eating the juicy fruit within. "I'm hungry."

"For the last time, you are not allowed to eat the orange," Midorima hisses, though it is with little heat. He puts a hand on the fruit in case Takao tries anything. "If you want, I'll call on the maid to cook something."

Maybe it's the amount of time he's spent with Midorima that such statements don't sound as pompous as the way rich people on TV say it. Takao cushions his head with one arm, waving his other hand limply in the air. "Nah, that's okay. I just feel so comfy right here, I wanna take a nap." At Midorima's responding frown, Takao inclines his head in question. "What? Like you've never fallen asleep under a kotatsu before?" The wintry weather is perfect for it.

"… I used to do it a lot when I was younger but I have… outgrown… that phase," Midorima admits, looking all prim and proper yet oddly embarrassed.

Takao feeds that thought to his imagination and… "Your feet stuck out," he blurts into the warning silence.

"I had a growth spurt," Midorima states curtly.

Mental images of a disgruntled Midorima lying under the heated table with his toes wiggling out in the cold has Takao chuckling. "Aw, but that's adorable~"

"Shut it."

"C'mere."

"Excuse me?"

Takao pulls up the blanket and pats the space beside him. "I bet if you curled up a little, you can still enjoy kotatsu naps."

Narrowing his eyes, Midorima creates a list of why going over there would be a bad idea. He pins Takao with his most incredulous expression but it does nothing to dispel the encouraging smile directed at him. "Fine."

The space under the table barely contains the both of them. Takao keeps his limbs as close to his body as possible to give way for Midorima's more… extensive… appendages. They face each other, the kotatsu blanket covering everything from the neck below.

"Isn't this nice?" Takao grins.

"Not particularly," is Midorima's dry response.

"But it's so warm~ You'd let me sleep awhile, wouldn't you, Shin-chan?"

They _did_ just beat Kaijo for the semifinals spot that afternoon. It was an exhausting match with Kise utilizing his perfect copy but a duplicate can never outshine the original; Takao's playmaking drew out everyone's full potential with extensive use of his Hawk Eye. With that win, the final four contenders have been confirmed: Rakuzan, Seirin, Yosen, and Shutoku. They are looking forward to a match versus Yosen on the weekend.

It was Takao's idea to get a bit of studying done despite their already busy day; his way of using up the excess adrenalin from the game.

Midorima shows his assent by pulling off his glasses and setting them on the table. "Five minutes. Then we go back to English."

"Make it ten," Takao bargains, snuggling a little closer to the heater.

"Why?"

Takao's smile is lax and he's obviously half-way asleep. "'Coz that's my jersey number."

Midorima could only sigh at the explanation but allows it anyway. Taped fingers curl into a fist over his chest. He watches the minute changes in Takao's face – defined lines softening in his slumber, lips parted by even breaths, curious silvery eyes hidden, exhaustion of the mind and body taking its toll. He can't remember closing his eyes but he remembers opening them to find Takao pressed up against him with a different kind of heat simmering under the kotatsu.

Night has sufficiently blanketed the outside world and all is quiet save for the sound of their breathing. Up close, Midorima can feel the rhythmic heartbeats, surprised with their calm pace in contrast to such a hyper personality. Even without his glasses, he finds residual soap on Takao's skin from the post-game shower, miniscule crumbs surround the other teen's mouth from the granola bar he'd eaten on the bus, there's a fallen eyelash resting beside dotted ink marks from their study session. Midorima knows all these irrelevant details and he craves for the important facts – if Takao would object to Midorima's touch, whether he'd join Midorima on a day out which does not involve the search for lucky items, how he'd react if Midorima tells him about –

"Mm, Shin-chan…"

Takao's eyes are still closed but Midorima figures the guy must've sensed something; he's perceptive like that. Any second now, Takao is bound to wake and Midorima doesn't know how he's supposed to act. They're entangled beyond what Midorima can hope to undo without disturbing the shorter teen's sleep. Escape proves futile when Takao's hands find the front of his shirt under the kotatsu.

"Takao?"

The point guard hums upon hearing his name but remains apparently asleep. He does, however, move closer to the voice, subconsciously drawn in. His movements are blocked by a foreign body that he decides is harmless, a pressure that unintentionally lines with his groin and _oh, there we go_. Takao murmurs a name smothered in a low moan and he makes another push of the hips.

Heated palms are groping over his chest and Midorima is stricken, at a loss on how he's supposed to deal with this development. Objectively, he knows that Takao's state is a product of the body's natural reaction to heat and the play of hormones. He isn't entirely unacquainted with the phenomenon but it still throws him. This is a side of Takao that he isn't familiar with, one that he is both curious and afraid of. They may be compatible from star sign to blood type but sexual chemistry is also a major factor in lasting relationships and –

"Takao."

A vice grip on both his hands snaps Takao out of his sleep. He's confused for the first few seconds until he deciphers Midorima's somber expression. If the kotatsu wasn't over them, he's pretty sure he would've jumped ten feet into the air. Sleeping so close to Midorima, no wonder he was having such a happy dream but now he has to face reality and reality is nowhere as sweet. Takao scrambles away but Midorima (and the constraints of their sleeping place) doesn't let him get very far. At the very least he manages to get his traitorous private regions at a safe distance. _Ah, damn, this is so embarrassing_, Takao whines in the confines of his mind. "That was a long ten minutes, eheh."

Typical. Midorima releases Takao's hands and pulls himself out from under the table; the other teen follows suit but keeps his lap covered by the blanket. Putting on his glasses, Midorima manages a cordial tone. "It's nearly dinner time. Would you like to–"

"Maybe next time," Takao interrupts, his usual smile not making it to his eyes. "'Sides, it's my turn to do the dishes at home." Unable to look at Midorima, he defers his gaze to the clock hanging on the wall. If he takes a short cut, he'll only be five minutes late for dinner.

Midorima nods, letting Takao take the easy way out. "I see. Then let's clean up."

Stashing everything into his bag, Takao is antsy to get as far away from his partner as possible. Passing by the study, Takao excuses himself to Midorima's parents and then makes quick work of putting on his shoes at the front door. He bids Midorima goodnight and hops on his bike, pedaling like there's no tomorrow.

Once Takao is gone, Midorima has dinner with his parents who lament that his friend couldn't stay over. They ask him about the game, giving perfunctory congratulations at hearing about their victory.

••••••••••••

Out on the streets of Tokyo, Takao stops by the 24-hour convenience store at the end of his street. His heart is racing for a reason that has less to do with his cycling cadence and more with the fact that has done something unspeakable to his best friend, never mind that he did it in his sleep; actually, that fact just makes it worse. "Shit," Takao curses, wiping at his eyes. Just when everything is going right, he has to fuck it up again.

His face feels hot as he whips out his phone, scrolling through his contacts list until he finds the right person. Thumb hovering over the call button, Takao double-thinks his decision. Does he really want to involve other people in this mess?

No, should've been his immediate answer but a voice in his head echoes words from the not-so-distant past.

_Just call me, alright? If shit hits the fan or whatever. You freaking asked for my number, right? Put it to some good use._

That time, he had jokingly replied with "Wow, you must be really desperate" and got a smirk in return but now he finds the situation to be the complete opposite. He's the desperate one.

••••••••••••

In accordance with the big game scheduled over the weekend, Nakatani drives them late on Friday, squeezing all final preparations into team drills. Even Midorima gets dissuaded from his usual after-practice regimen in order to ensure his best condition for Sunday. Saturday is meant to be their day off.

Depositing an evergreen bonsai in the cart, Midorima catches Takao's hand before their deciding rock-paper-scissors game. "You've been awkward around me all day," he states, leaving no room for argument. "If this is about yesterday, then know that I have resolved to not think about it." When Takao's jaw drops, he continues with enough finesse for the both of them. "I understand that it's a physiological reaction and do not take it as a point against your character."

Filtered through Takao's mind, Midorima's point stands clear – he does not reciprocate. He's glad that the scarf he's wearing covers most of his sorry attempt at a smile. "Got it, Shin-chan." He doesn't even try to win and takes on his yoke without breaking pace. He delivers Midorima home and dislodges the cart, having no intention of prolonging his stay when taped fingers grab him by the elbow.

Midorima is scary when he's all focused like that. "Are we alright?"

Takao freezes, getting a split-second urge to say 'No' and just spill everything right then and there but he steels himself and replies with a nod. "Of course, we are. I'll see you on Sunday," he waves as he kicks off again, not waiting for any reply.


	6. Give a little

••••••••••••

**Chapter Five**

_Give a little, get a lot_

••••••••••••

Kagami pulls off his hood as he enters the shop. His watch tells him he's fifteen minutes early. Not wanting to look suspicious, he orders some coffee and donuts, taking his tray to an empty table by the window so he could spot Takao's arrival. He checks his phone, making sure that he didn't miss any messages. Takao had been oddly quiet after confirming the place and time of their meet-up yesterday.

He's halfway through his stack of donuts when a figure slides onto bench opposite him. Kagami takes his eyes off the window, wondering how he'd missed Takao, then chokes at seeing who has actually joined him.

"Hey, Taiga," Himuro greets, steeping his fingers together and flashing a disarming smile. "Waiting on a date?"

"Bro – Tatsuya," Kagami corrects himself, catching the warning glint in the older teen's visible eye. "What're you doing here?" He picks up his phone and checks the calendar to make sure he hasn't slept through Saturday and it's actually Sunday with the semifinals about to start – it isn't.

"I'm waiting on a date," Himuro says. "Just like you. So why don't we wait together?" He sends a quick message on his phone then turns his attention back to Kagami. "Where's Kuroko-kun?"

Kagami grudgingly lets Himuro take one of his donuts, tone bitter when he speaks. "He has shooting practice with Aomine."

Blinking, Himuro swallows the bite of pastry before replying. "That's nice… Does Kuroko-kun know you're seeing other people behind his back?"

"For the last time, Tatsuya, I am _not_ dating Kuroko." Kagami crosses his arms to punctuate that statement.

"Not yet, anyway," a third voice supplies, followed by its owner sliding into the bench beside Kagami. "Hey." Takao waves at Himuro. This is what he gets for trusting public transport instead of his bike. He took one look at it this morning and decided he doesn't need any more reminders of his broken connection with Midorima today.

"Shutoku's Takao," Himuro acknowledges. "Odd to find the Hawk Eye flying solo." He tilts his head towards Kagami in question. "So when Kuroko-kun and Midorima-kun aren't around, you two get together? That's quite an arrangement."

"It's not like that!" Kagami and Takao deny in unison.

"Oh?" Himuro takes another bite of pastry. "Because meeting in a coffee shop totally spells out date."

"Don't be silly." Takao takes a donut from Kagami's stack, using it to point at Himuro. "This is a secret meeting."

"Really?" Himuro's tone makes it clear that he's not buying Takao's words.

"It is?" Takao steps on Kagami's foot under the table. "I mean, yeah, it is. Totally."

"It's a secret meeting of the Generation of Miracles' boyfriends," Takao states shamelessly. "Or wannabe boyfriends, as it stands."

Himuro narrows his eyes at them. "So who else is coming?"

Kagami defers to Takao, not knowing how to carry the conversation. For his part, Takao thanks his lucky stars that he's gifted with quick wit and interpersonal charisma. And the Hawk Eye, too, of course.

"As a matter of fact," Takao starts, pulling out his phone for effect. "One of our members is running late, but let me just call him."

A generic incoming call tone plays in front of the cash register and the teen hands over his payment for the cashier to compute while he gets to his phone. "H-Hello?"

Takao grins, peering out of the cubicle so that he can be seen. "Ryou-chan, I told you meeting starts at two, right?"

Over at the counter, Touou's Sakurai starts to panic. "W-What? I'm sorry?" He exits the line with a cold cup of latte in hand.

"That's okay, I can see you. We're in the booth by the window." Takao waves his hand to get Sakurai's attention. "Come on." He ends the call and sits back, smirking at Himuro and Kagami, the latter of which is gaping at him.

Himuro actually looks impressed for a second. He scoots over to give Sakurai a seat.

"I-I'm sorry," Sakurai starts, stuffing a handful of shopping bags under the table. "I was running errands for Wakamatsu-senpai and Momoi-san–"

"It's fine, it's fine," Takao assures him. "Glad you could make it."

"We're missing Kaijou and Rakuzan," Himuro points out, secretly amused.

As he says this, the door chime rings and a group of collegians amble in, chattering loudly about some movie presentation and panel discussion at the fifth floor convention hall.

Takao cannot actually believe how much favor fate is bestowing on him. Maybe he's been carrying Scorpio's lucky item for the day unknowingly and that's why things are going so smooth but he has no time to wonder which of his belongings fall under the category. Without losing a beat, he answers, "Well, Reo-chan hasn't returned any of my calls since we beat Rakuzan at the Inter-High but good news is that the Kaijou rep just arrived." Turning around his seat, Takao shouts, "Hey, Yuki-chan!"

From the group of students, a dark-haired teen stops and causes some of his peers to crash into him. Cringing, Kasamatsu Yukio excuses himself and marches out from the throng, right towards Takao who's grinning unapologetically.

"Come here and we can start the meeting." Takao mentally gives himself a pat on the back.

Kasamatsu stops at the head of the table, glowering at Shutoku's point guard. "I have no idea what–" He sees the rest of the table and stops, recognizing the other occupants. "What the hell is this?"

"It's the secret Miracle Boyfriends meeting," Kagami says, half-snickering. "Grab a seat."

Takao follows that up with, "We would've had Kise-chi as moderator but, you know, even if he's a Boyfriend, he's a Miracle too… Thank goodness you're here!"

"Damn that Kise." Slapping a hand over his face, Kasamatsu pulls over an empty seat. He puts both fists on the table all business-like and addresses the group in a deadly undertone. "Look it was one kiss. It happened one freaking time with alcohol involved and that's it. Nothing follows."

The whole table goes quiet.

"What?" Kasamatsu demands at the four people staring at him.

Takao looks pretty pleased with himself. This isn't what he came for – thought it's not actually far from what he's wanted to accomplish this afternoon but – group therapy might be exactly what he needs; no offense to Kagami. "Well that officially puts this meeting to a start. Who's next?" His gaze moves to Sakurai, sitting on Kasamatsu's right.

Meeting Takao's gaze, Sakurai fumbles with putting the straw through his cup of latte. "Um, w-what exactly are we supposed to say?"

"Just whatever's on your mind," Kagami encourages, getting the hang of things. "Whatever dirt you have on Aomine, we're here to listen."

"But you said 'boyfriend'," Sakurai points out. "And I'm… I'm not…?"

Kagami and Takao share a look. Come to think of it, the guy is more Aomine's lackey than anything else…

"I mean, Aomine-san likes to fool around but we're not actually official," Sakurai continues, staring at the happy mascot printed on the plastic cup. "I know he's seeing Kise-san… mainly... and I know that Aomine-san isn't after anything more than physical gratification."

Himuro stares at the teen beside him, thinking he'd heard a sniffle somewhere but Sakurai is impervious to the others' staring, lost in his own words.

"But, um, Kanagawa isn't as accessible as, say, the third floor custodian closet so…" He wipes off the water droplet that's running down the side of his drink. "We kind of have this thing… every now and then…"

Kagami and Takao resume staring at each other, wide-eyed now at realizing the can of worms they've opened. Personally, Kagami is of the opinion that the less he knows of his rival's personal life, the better but there's no turning back now.

Kasamatsu lets out a low whistle. "You poor soul."

"E-Eh?!" Sakurai turns a fearful look at Kaijou's ex-captain.

"Have you tried suggesting a threesome?" Himuro speaks up.

"Tatsuya!" Kagami is scandalized, nearly spilling his coffee with the hard slap he'd dealt the table at the suggestion.

Himuro shrugs. "It seems logical."

"And Kise-chi's pretty much open to everything anyway," Takao muses, to which Kasamatsu nods in agreement.

"True."

A beat of silence follows where a realization occurs to the group.

Takao bites his bottom lip, surprised at how easy he's breathing, how relaxing it is to have casual conversation like this. Sure he has friends at Shutoku and there's no doubt that they will listen to his griping but this is different. In this space they've created, Takao feels like he would be understood and not just heard.

"Is it my turn?" Himuro asks, a dainty smile pulling on thin lips.

Kagami crinkles his nose. "Ew, I don't wanna hear about your sex life." The thought of it is somehow more revolting than hearing about Aomine's.

"Just because you're not getting any, Taiga, doesn't mean the rest of us have to be celibate," Himuro tells him in a tone that's just the right shade of condescending.

"I hear you," Takao agrees. "But hold that thought. I'm just gonna get me a drink, anyone else wants anything?"

Kasamatsu stands to let Takao pass. "If this is going to take a while, I have to let my blockmates know that I'm, er, occupied…"

"More donuts?" Takao asks Kagami, getting an affirmative. "Himuro?"

"Just a coffee, thank you." Himuro reaches for his wallet but Takao dissuades him.

"My treat."

Kagami makes to follow Takao. "You need help with carrying the stuff?"

"I'll be fine," Takao says with a wave. "Be a proper host and entertain our guests. I'll be just a minute. Or five." He reiterates once he sees the queue.

Sakurai sips at his iced latte. Beside him, Himuro pensively watches as Kagami cranes his neck to see Takao line up.

Once they have their food and drinks, everyone settles down again and Takao grabs the opportunity to take a group selfie. After the flash fades Kasamatsu gives Takao a smack on the shoulder. "That's for dragging me into this."

Grinning, Takao hands out the plate of donuts. "So where were we?"

"I'm actually waiting for Atsushi," Himuro says, cooling his coffee with gentle blows. "We're supposed to go on a date."

"Well aren't you awfully relaxed," Takao comments, dipping a piece of donut into his hot chocolate. "Considering you'll be facing us at the semifinals tomorrow."

"Oh, you know," Himuro replies airily. "There's this sweets company that's going to unveil a line of limited edition chocolates and Atsushi… Well, he knows his priorities."

"So you're the doting kind of boyfriend," Kasamatsu surmises.

"Whatever made you say that?" There's that disarming smile again. "Atsushi has been playing hard all season. It's only fair that he gets a reward."

"So where is this giant?" Kagami asks.

"Late. As always."

Kagami gets the odd feeling that Himuro isn't as calm as he appears to be. The guy barely put any sugar in his coffee and he knows how much of a not-so-secret sweet-tooth Himuro is.

"Kagami-san? It's your turn." For once, Sakurai manages not to sound apologetic or even intimidated. In fact, he sounds very much invested in the conversation. While Takao had been queuing for their snacks, Himuro got him to talk more about the nature of his relationship with Touou's ace while Kagami was forced to listen in with a morbid sense of fascination. Not many people are open-minded about having multiple partners but (having lived in a so-called liberated country) Himuro and Kagami are surprisingly okay with the concept though they stressed that since Aomine was doing it without Kise's knowledge, it definitely counts as cheating. At which point Himuro suggested the threesome again and Kagami promptly kicked him under the table.

Scratching his head at Sakurai's conduction, Kagami's mouth twists into a frown. "Uh, I don't know. Kuroko and I are cool. I guess."

"So why is he shooting hoops with Aomine right now instead of you?" Himuro pries, glad for the opportunity to satisfy his curiosity. Even if they're no longer termed brothers, looking after Kagami is a hard habit to break.

To Takao, Kasamatsu whispers, "That's not a metaphor, now is it?" which gets the Shutoku player giggling. Even Sakurai has to cover his mouth with a tissue, due to an unappealing snort that has cold coffee dribbling down his chin.

"I don't think that's a problem," Kagami states, defensive. "He has his own set of friends and it's not my business if he wants to hang out with them."

"You're not jealous?" Takao wheedles, bumping his shoulder with Kagami.

"Not really…" Kagami picks a donut and stuffs it into his mouth, chewing to bid some time. "I mean, we hang out in our own time. He comes by my place and he'll read while I make lunch, sometimes we go out to the street courts for some one-on-one… Oh and just last week he dared me to go with him when Nigou needed to get shots."

The other four exchange glances, nodding at some unspoken understanding.

"You must trust him a lot to leave him alone with Aomine-san," Sakurai finally says, which gets both Takao and Kasamatsu nodding.

"We're just friends, is what I'm saying," Kagami explains, avoiding the question entirely. "I don't have the right to question what he's doing with whom."

"So you're not planning to make a move?" Himuro asks, already knowing the answer by the tone he uses.

Kagami frowns. "Now isn't the time."

"If you're waiting on a sign…" Takao lets that sentence trail, looking meaningfully at Kagami.

"I say you're still not sure of what you're feeling," Kasamatsu declares, sloshing his coffee around the cup. "Not to be a bad example but, that thing with Kise and me? Yeah, it all seemed promising until we put it to the test. Sure, it didn't work out, but it saved us an eternity of wondering '_what if?_'."

"Kuroko-kun seems fairly attached to you," Himuro observes. "But if he isn't going out of his way to show that he's looking for something more, then your best bet is to find someone else…"

"It's not that simple," Kagami insists. "Kuroko and I… we've got something. It's more than just being partners, more than those miracles' stupid light and shadow crap–"

Takao flinches. "Ouch, Tai-chan. That hit home."

Kagami turns to him, surprised. "Oh. Sorry, man."

"So what's your issue?" Himuro prods at Takao. "No guts to profess your undying love to four-eyes?"

Leaning across the table to glare at Yosen's captain, Takao's tone is not as friendly as he'd previously displayed. "Excuse you, my Shin-chan has a name. And I am not taking my position as his shadow for granted."

Himuro smiles at the heated response. "Well, well… Let's hear it then."

When Takao finishes his story (including everything up to the kotatsu incident), he finds himself surrounded by impressed stares. Even Himuro's chiding expression has mellowed into something that's not quite pity but is close enough.

"That's harsh."

"I know!" Takao finishes off his hot chocolate, resisting the urge to slam the cup on the table. He doesn't need to make a scene as it is, he's pretty sure the kids in the other tables have heard everything with the way he so passionately told his tale. "But I can't say I blame him for – what?" He gets distracted by Kagami who's staring at him too closely.

"You've got…" Kagami points at the area around his mouth. "Chocolate."

Takao blinks, tongue slipping out to find his drink's residue near the corner of his lips. "Oh." He gets a tissue and wipes himself. "Better?"

A chuckle leaves Kagami. "Not really. Let me do it," he offers, taking a fresh sheet and scrubbing away the chocolate foam mustache… or beard, more like it.

"I wish Aomine-san was that sweet," Sakurai sighs, stirring the left-over ice in his drink.

"Shut up." Kagami scowls, sending a half-hearted glare at the brunet. Opposite him, Himuro wears a mischievous smile.

"Well, that Midorima comes from a very traditional family, right?" Kasamatsu leads them back on topic. "Maybe he doesn't want to, y'know, get involved prior to marriage."

Takao hums, thoughtful. "Well, I have been eyeing this engagement ring at the jeweler's."

Kagami's eyes widen in disbelief. "Seriously?"

"What?"

"I thought the engagement plan was off? What did I tell you about–?" He cuts himself mid-rant. Breathing deep, Kagami rethinks his words. "Look. You called me in the middle of the night saying your entire love life is over but… Dude, if Kuroko started humping my leg in his sleep, I'd freak out too."

"Well I can't say the same," Himuro admits slyly, getting a puking motion from Kagami. Satisfied, he shifts his attention to the Shutoku player. "Though, you probably are just overreacting, Takao-kun."

"Have you considered that Midorima-san isn't into guys?" Sakurai adds. "If that's the case then you're lucky he still wants to be friends."

"Y'know, I'm really curious as to how you got Aomine to cheat on Kise." Takao tilts his head at Sakurai.

"I-I'm not sure," Sakurai replies meekly. "It just happened."

"Screwing around with the likes of Aomine doesn't _just_ happen."

"Takao, hey, don't take it out on him." Kagami puts a hand on Takao's shoulder to keep him in his seat.

Takao catches himself and the alarmed look on Sakurai. His cheeks fill with hot guilt and shame. "Sorry, Ryou-chan."

"It's okay," Sakurai assures him with a smile. "I'm contented to take what I can get but you… I admire your perseverance, Takao-san. And I hope that you and Midorima-san can sort things out."

"Yeah." Takao deflates now that he's said everything. Looking up at Kagami, he musters a grateful smile.

Kasamatsu wipes his mouth free of glazed crumbs. "You're exhausting yourself," he tells Takao. "It's admirable, like Sakurai here has said, but it's also unhealthy. You're just teenagers. Hell, we're _all_ just teenagers. There's so much more to live for. So don't get yourself down over this. You've all got a big game tomorrow, am I right?"

Smiles bloomed around the table.

"Actually, I have a better idea," Himuro says after the moment is over. He wears an easy smile, peering at the opposite side of the table through his bangs. "Why don't you two just date each other?"

Kagami blinks. "What? Me and…" He looks down at Takao who's already looking up at him in confusion; he still has his hand on the latter's shoulder.

"Pffft." Takao bursts out laughing and Kagami follows a second later. They slump into each other, laughing with incredulity at the suggestion. Himuro quietly waits them out. Kasamatsu and Sakurai share a wondering look.

"No way!" Kagami sputters. "That'd be like dating my brother–"

Himuro raises a brow and the younger teen shuts up.

Takao takes the opportunity to butt in. "I concede that I am not worthy to wear the same label as Tatsu-chan the ikemen–"

"Is that supposed to be me?!" Himuro hisses.

"But damn, Tai-chan," Takao flutters his lashes at the redhead beside him, squeezing close in the small booth. "You could at least know what we are?"

Kasamatsu leans towards Sakurai, muttering, "I have a bad feeling about this."

"And what's that?" Kagami challenges, honestly intrigued, barely recognizing that he's moved closer.

"You." A drawling voice comes from above them at the same time that fingers flick at Kagami's ear. "Are not allowed to break Kuro-chin's heart."

Himuro looks up at the curtain of lilac hair that's hanging above him. "Atsushi."

"What the hell?" Kagami demands, jumping away with a hand over his ear to protect it from further abuse.

Murasakibara ignores him in favor of pressing a kiss on the corner of Himuro's eye, right over his mole, in apology. "I got lost again. This mall has too many coffee shops."

The public display of affection makes a shiver go up Kasamatsu's spine, prompting him to cough and look away. Beside him, Takao is torn between cooing and gagging at the pair.

"That's okay," Himuro assures the teen leaning over from the empty booth behind him. Turning back to his table, he gives the group a smile. "It's been a nice chat but my date has arrived and we better get going."

Sakurai ambles out of the way, taking his shopping bags with him so that Himuro can exit the booth.

"Remember what I said," Himuro directs his parting words at the pair on the bench. "Bye for now."

With Himuro gone, Kagami rounds on the others. "What did Murasakibara just–"

"He told you not to break Kuroko's heart, dumbass," Kasamatsu states.

"And he flicked your ear like a kid," Takao teases, smiling wider at the pout Kagami sends him.

"I wasn't doing anything!"

"I don't know," Sakurai mumbles, self-consciously pressing the tips of his pointing fingers together. "From my perspective, it looked like you two were about to kiss."

••••••••••••

Takao clutches at his stomach, air squeezed right out of his lungs as near-hysterical laughter spills into the evening. It's one of the coldest winter nights but he's comfortably warm.

"Oi, stop laughing, damn it!" The reprove is ineffective, considering the humor underlining the half-hearted attempt to quiet him.

One look at the matching twitches on Kagami's lips and brows hauls even more raucous laughter from Takao. A couple of passersby look at him funny but he ignores them in favor of slapping Kagami's back. "But that's just freaking hilarious! I can't believe he flat out said it! And the nerve of those guys to back him up!"

"It must be senioritis," Kagami says, grinning as he gives in. Noticing Takao's confused face, he explains, "It's a thing, you know, when third years get close to graduating and they can't think straight so they start spewing weird stuff."

"Can't think _straight_," Takao snickers.

"Then again, Tatsuya probably has it out for me." Kagami shoots a balled-up Maji Burger wrapper into a waste bin. He'd been carrying it with him from the store where they had a late dinner.

Takao whistles as the balled up paper goes in. "Two points to Seirin."

"Shut up," Kagami mutters as they turn the corner, entering the last stretch of road before the train station. At the lack of a witty comeback, Kagami looks over at his companion – Takao's eyes are glinting with mischief. "What?" he asks, heat creeping over his cheeks as Takao shows him his phone with the camera app at the ready.

"Why don't we give them something to _really_ talk about?"

Kagami's heart skips a beat. "Don't be stupid," he says dismissively, desperately trying not to think of Sakurai's final comment and Kasamatsu's unhelpful agreement to it. He doesn't think of Takao that way. Not really.

"Aw, but remember what Yuki-chan said?" Takao coaxes. If the sane man in the group saw the possibility, then it couldn't be entirely unfounded. "We'll never put the issue to rest until we test it out."

"There _is_ no issue, Takao," Kagami insists, reaching for Takao's phone and exiting the camera mode.

"Then why won't you look me in the eye when you say it?"

Kagami is struck by the sudden depth in Takao's tone. He meets the silvery gaze, unable to look away now that he's done it. "You don't really want this," he whispers.

Shrugging, Takao steps closer, pocketing his phone to get it out of the way. "Maybe I'm taking a leaf out of Ryou-chan's book and taking what I can get." His voice turns sly, playing with the drawstrings of the taller teen's hoodie. "You gotta admit we have chemistry, Tai-chan."

"… At least drop the stupid nickname if we're going to kiss," Kagami mutters, making a mental note to tell Tatsuya to keep his comments to himself from now on.

In the back of his mind, Takao thinks that's something his Shin-chan would say if they ever got into this situation. But they wouldn't – would never – and it's that sobering thought that brings him to close the gap.

Kagami tastes chocolate on Takao's lips, sweet and warm and not entirely unappealing.

••••••••••••

"Aw, isn't this cute, Tetsu-kun?" Momoi squeals, showing the screen of her phone to the teen sitting opposite her.

Kuroko looks up from his bowl of noodles. It's a photo uploaded by Shutoku's Takao from five hours earlier, captioned with "_Saturdate~! ;)_". He's in a pastry store by the look of the food laid on the table but Kuroko's focus is on the guy holding the camera.

Kagami has his hand extended as far as it would go to capture everyone in the photo. Sidled up beside him is Takao, smiling big and flashing a peace sign. Kasamatsu is on Takao's other side, leaning in with half a grin on his face. On the other side of the table are Himuro and Sakurai, both smiling politely at the camera. Kagami's face is all squinty, an expression Kuroko has learned to read as unbridled happiness.

"Huh, I didn't know Ryou knew how to socialize," Aomine comments, half-joking as he chews on his food.

"Dai-chan, don't be mean," Momoi scolds, taking back her phone so she could Like and comment on the photo.

Aomine nudges Kuroko's shoulder when the teen doesn't immediately go back to eating. They'd been practicing all afternoon and Kuroko was all but inhaling his noodles just now, to see him stop all of a sudden is a little disturbing. "You okay?"

Kuroko swirls his chopsticks around the bowl, dragging noodle strands into a cyclonic formation around the center. "I was just thinking… Sorry."

"Don't apologize, sheesh." Aomine frowns, turning his attention back to his own plate. "You sound just like Ryou."

••••••••••••

Takao has to raise himself on his toes a little, hands finding purchase on Kagami's neck to bring him closer, make it a little easier. He makes a pleased sound in the back of his throat when Kagami angles their faces for a better fit.

Kagami pulls Takao nearer, setting his hands just above the cut of dark jeans. He's pretty sure this goes far beyond what Kasamatsu said about testing things out but he can't quite find the will to stop. Takao is a seriously good kisser.

He forgets that they're actually doing this outside with civilians who might call the police on them for indecency but Takao can't bring himself to care. Reciprocation feels awesome and it sends delightful tingles down to the tips of his toes. He pushes his hands into hair that's softer than they look, waiting to bump into earpieces from rectangular-framed glasses but they never come. His fingers card smoothly through spiked hair, getting an encouraging squeeze around his waist in response.

••••••••••••

"What's the matter, Shintaro?"

The smooth voice is garbled when it reaches his ears and it's not until the second utterance of his name does Midorima finally look up.

"Apologies, I got… distracted." He sets his phone face down and diverts his attention back to the digital game board. He ends his turn with a click of the mouse.

"That's certainly one way of putting it," Akashi says, his image over the video chat looking less than amused. "You just orchestrated your own defeat."

Midorima stills, lips thinning to a line when he realizes he'd moved the wrong piece. "I can still turn this around."

"No you can't." Akashi proves his point by making his finishing move and winning the match. He sighs, resting his cheek on the palm of his hand and looking disinterestedly into the camera. "And you were executing a good game, too. What did Momoi want?"

"It was nothing," Midorima replies curtly, closing the tab that's declaring his loss in dreadful gray text. "Just a photo."

"Of whom?" Akashi swipes at his own phone, belatedly realizing he'd received the same message. "Nevermind, I got it, too." He raises his brows at the image that pops up. It has entirely nothing to do with him but he must've gotten included due to Momoi's contact grouping. Honestly, that woman… Nonetheless, he sees exactly what it is that has troubled his playing partner. "I thought you've fixed the situation with Kazunari."

There's a visible twitch in Midorima's expression. "I have. Though I am now inclined to believe that we weren't clear enough."

"How many times do I have to say it?" Akashi takes on the tone of a scolding mother. "You have to be direct with him; otherwise he'll never truly understand you."

"Maybe this is the sign for me to stop; he is obviously enjoying his so-called date." Midorima's distaste cant' be conveyed enough.

"If you truly believe that, then why do you look like you're about to break someone's neck?" Akashi smiles to himself, looking down at the photo again. "Taiga's, most probably."

"Nonsense," Midorima snips, meeting Akashi's smile with a frown.

"You can't lie to me, Shintaro. I know you too well."

Pushing his glasses up, the lenses reflect the bright blue light of the computer screen. "As I do you."


	7. What happens in Teikou

••••••••••••

**Chapter Six**

_What happens in Teikou bleeds out to the rest of the world_

••••••••••••

Some people would call it an accident but Midorima knows better and calls it fate. After all, it's not like him to forget things in his locker, no matter that he'd just started using it yesterday – when he became an official member of the Teikou basketball club.

He's surprised to find that the gymnasium lights are still on. Maybe the custodians aren't done yet so he decides not to worry about wasted electricity. His shoes make no sound as he walks past the court, eyes longingly staring at the three-point line where he'd vowed to never miss another shot.

The locker room door squeaks as he enters, trying to be silent despite the knowledge that everyone else had left. He passes rows of lockers until he gets to the backmost aisle where all the freshmen are assigned. Midorima is running the numbers of his locker combination in his head but it all stops when he comes upon a sight that's he was never meant to see (or _was_, depending on your beliefs.)

Midorima stares, mute.

Akashi has never looked so scared, pulling the towel to cover everything that's not meant to be seen. "What are you doing here?"

"I left my textbook. There's an assignment due tomorrow," Midorima says in a plaintive tone as though he hasn't received the shock of a lifetime. They stare at each other for an eternity that lasts some five seconds. "Excuse me." He passes Akashi and heads over to his locker, calm and collected.

Meanwhile, Akashi hurriedly clothes himself in more layers than what's comfortable in the summer weather. He fixes his crooked tie and turns to find that Midorima has gone. Panic strikes him and he makes a dash for the door where his teammate is just about to leave.

"Midorima!"

Pausing in his steps, Midorima turns to Akashi with an expression of polite curiosity. "Yes?"

Akashi steels himself, at a loss of words. He expects to be bombarded with all kinds of invasive questions. In the worst case scenario, he might be threatened but this… Midorima's neutral reaction… It's disconcerting. "Aren't you going to say anything?" Akashi scrutinizes his taller teammate.

"I presume it's a private matter and if the coach has allowed it, then I can't complain." Midorima states, coolly. "The coach _is_ aware, isn't he?"

Akashi nods. "So does our captain and all authorities of note."

"Then I have no questions though I must apologize for walking in on you. It won't happen again. I'll see you tomorrow, Akashi." Midorima inclines his head in farewell, moving out the door in an unhurried pace.

Left in the locker room, Akashi finds his heart to be calmed by those words. Not having to explain himself is a refreshing experience.

••••••••••••

Akashi watches Midorima closely the next day. The guy is a loner, but he's already made that clear during tryouts. He goes through the routines in strict silence, honing his still-imperfect form under the upperclassmen's tutelage. Midorima is very reserved but maybe that's just his excuse for ignoring Akashi the whole time.

Once practice is done with, Akashi stays behind as usual. He passes the time until the lockers clear out by chatting with Nijimura. In their quiet corner of the bleachers, Akashi divulges that he's been discovered but there's no need for panic since it's only Midorima.

"Midorima, huh," Teikou's Captain muses, rubbing at his chin. "He's a promising player with all that height and focus."

Akashi agrees. "But he plays alone."

"Well, we're going to have to work on that," Nijimura replies with an easy shrug. "You could use some friends of your own, Akashi-kun."

••••••••••••

"If you really want to improve then you have to go beyond the normal drills."

Midorima lowers his shooting arm, turning towards Akashi who has taken the spot beside him. He adjusts his glasses, giving way.

Akashi palms the ball passed to him, eyes set on the hoop looming high above. He jumps to make for his lack in stature and the ball soars right in. "I can talk to the captain about giving you extra practice time," he informs Midorima.

"I can talk to him just fine," Midorima replies, a little suspicious. "What is your true purpose?"

Akashi leads him towards the bleachers to get some privacy. Seating himself on a higher tier to keep on level with Midorima, Akashi explains. "I have decided to trust you."

Blinking, Midorima's lips quirk down. "I appreciate that but what you're really asking is for a cover. It'll be suspicious for you to keep staying late by yourself."

"It won't be suspicious if I'm staying late for practice with a teammate," Akashi smiles, knowing that the odds are his favor. "You can perfect your technique on court and maybe warn me if someone's coming into the lockers while I take care of my business."

Midorima tells himself he's only doing it for the extra practice time. If he wants to succeed, he has to do everything in his power to achieve his goals.

••••••••••••

In the stillness of the court, the rubber ball makes a perfect arc towards the hoop. Midorima wipes the sweat off his brow and picks another one from the cage. He gets into position, left-hand fingers supporting most of the ball's weight. _89…_

"Hey, Midorima, a little help here?"

Midorima jerks, releasing the ball prematurely. The clang of the ring and scoreboard when the basketball ricochets off them is a cacophony to his ears. He glares at the head poking from the locker rooms. "What do you want, Akashi?"

"The clamps aren't holding, I think they're broken. Come see."

Abandoning his shooting practice with a long-suffering sigh, Midorima goes into the locker rooms where Akashi is waiting for him with his fasteners and a long measure of gauze. Midorima inspects the metal clamps, finding the springs loosened; he tries to reattach them to no avail. "Your best bet is to buy new ones," he informs Akashi. "Or get a quality binder. I've found reputable online stores that sell them." When Akashi merely stares at him, his expression turns bashful. "What?"

Akashi hums, gathering his things. The light blue shirt he wears isn't buttoned down, showing plenty of what he's trying to hide upfront. He levels his red eyes at Midorima, intrigued. "You're different from the others," he says, putting his gym bag together. "You don't look. You don't question. What are you, Midorima Shintaro?"

"I'm only human," Midorima replies, somewhat terse. He's asked himself those same questions but have not come up with the right answer.

"Mm, that's what you think," Akashi says, buttoning up his uniform and putting on his tie. "You're moving farther and farther from the three-point line as you practice. What exactly are you trying to achieve?"

"Same as everyone else. A starting position."

"And after that?"

"…"

Akashi looks down at himself, fully dressed now but with evident convexities where there shouldn't be. His purses his lips and bears it. Looking back at Midorima, he nods. "If you can't admit it to me, that's fine. The first step is always accepting it yourself."

••••••••••••

"Hey Mido-chin~"

"Yes, Murasakibara?"

"How come Aka-chin doesn't have a penis?"

Midorima chokes on air, glad that he had put away his drink when the taller teen chose to ask him that question. He raises narrowed eyes at the guy who's stuffing his cheeks with sugar-coated snacks. "How am I supposed to know?"

"Well~" Murasakibara chews slowly. "You're the smart one~ So tell me~"

If they weren't in the relative isolation of the gymnasium, Midorima wouldn't have dared breach the topic. But as it is, practice is over and the new captain has all the other members leave once the clean-up is done (Murasakibara being an exception since he has fallen asleep and only recently woke at the sound of Midorima's shooting.) Midorima is having a drink while they both wait for Akashi to come out of the locker rooms. "I am in no position to tell but I am curious as to how you can say such things…"

Taking his time to unwrap another snack, Murasakibara answers in a childish tone. "Well, I can't help but see over the other stalls when I use the bathroom… Not my fault they don't make the cubicle walls higher… And Aka-chin is always sitting down, so~"

"So you jumped to conclusions?" Midorima sniffs.

Murasakibara shrugs.

"That's not a very nice habit, Atsushi."

The pair on the bleachers turn towards the voice. Akashi's steps are easy as he comes up to them. He hands a pair of scissors back to Midorima who stores it carefully in his bag. "Sorry, I took so long. The cutting is a chore but it has to be done." Akashi sweeps nimble fingers over the jagged edges of his hair. Turning his gaze over to Murasakibara, he speaks again. "You are not to repeat those words again, understood?"

"But I don't like secrets~" Murasakibara pouts, curiosity winning over the imminent danger that's hanging over him. There's a spark of rabid attention under the lazy droop of his eyelids.

"It's not a secret now that you know it, Atsushi," Akashi states calmly. Too-calmly in fact, that Midorima is a little worried. "And I don't think it makes any difference after the fact that I have beaten you."

"Mmm…" Murasakibara lolls his head from side to side, humming as he deliberates. "I guess that's true…"

"It is," Akashi nods, satisfied. "You don't want me peering into _your_ stall now, do you, Atsushi? With all the ruckus going on in there, I might have to report you."

Midorima narrows his eyes confusedly at Murasakibara who has started giggling. "What…?"

"But it's so nice to see them try…" Murasakibara licks at the cream filling that's smudged at the corner of his lips.

Akashi sighs at the predictable response. "It can't be helped that most teenagers have very curious minds but it wouldn't do to invite trouble like that."

"_I'm_ not going through any trouble, though," Murasakibara says, sucking the powdered sugar off his fingers. "I just sit and let them do all the work…"

Out of the corner of his eye, Akashi watches as Midorima tries to hide his discomfort by shuffling the deck of cards that is his lucky item for the day. Maybe it was a bad idea to get the guy hooked on Oha Asa but no matter – Midorima's playing gets better every day since he believes that nothing can go wrong and neither of them can complain about that.

Midorima is distantly aware of what Murasakibara is talking about and not too long ago he'd confessed to Akashi himself how he'd found no inclination towards such things. He was one step away from consulting a doctor, to see what's wrong with him because what he is experiencing cannot be a product of admirable self-control or extreme discipline. No matter how traditional his upbringing, it certainly couldn't have resulted in such a backwards attitude.

Akashi looked up at him then, dead-serious over their half-finished shogi game and told him to never again compare himself with other people. They're not like him, not like them. _Those people_ aren't at their level, they are unworthy. The glint of gold in his left eye gave Midorima no room for argument.

_You and me, we're special_, Akashi had said, impressing those words upon him with utmost certainty that Midorima found it impossible to contradict. He didn't want to. People called him – them – the Generation of Miracles. A superfluous moniker that he could be laughing at but instead takes pride in. By virtue of it, he will become untouchable. Unquestionable.

He's glad that he talked to Akashi first.

Midorima meets Akashi's eyes now, thinking that he's seen the same flash of gold as back then but it could just be the ceiling lights. Somehow, he knows that Akashi is remembering the same thing. The ace of spades is face up on his deck.

"To each his own, then," Akashi states, smiling at his shooting guard and center. With these two and the rest of the Teikou team, he is guaranteed a win for any and all upcoming competitions.

••••••••••••

Midorima's heart is pounding as he cuts through the school halls. Classes are on-going and he might be missing an important lecture but an issue of greater importance pulls at his feet. His phone presses against his leg as he runs up the flight of stairs, a cold deadweight in his pocket.

He stops in front of third floor bathroom, unsurprised to find the door locked from inside. Checking himself, Midorima wills his breathing to even out before knocking thrice on the door. "Akashi, it's me."

For the first few seconds there's no noise, then he hears something muffled, pained. Midorima swallows and knocks again. "Open this door." _Let me help_. _You called for me, right? Let me do my job… as your vice-captain, your confidante, your friend._

This time he hears footsteps, uneven and halting. Midorima's hands helplessly curl into fists by his side. He can do nothing but wait and when the knob finally turns, he all but forces the door the rest of the way open.

He's met with a blank face and heterochromic eyes. Akashi's expression has been wiped clean of the panic he must've worn when he called Midorima not more than five minutes ago, urgent and pleading for the latter to come find him. "I am sorry for disrupting your learning, Shintaro," Akashi says, prim and collected as though his pristine pants aren't soaked in red.

Midorima can't bear to look into those eyes. He finds the trail of blood behind Akashi to be somewhat more comforting in the most skewed way imaginable. "You should go to the nurse."

"I am not sick." Akashi is deadly with that disengaged tone. "Only sick people are required to visit the medical ward."

_This isn't Akashi_, Midorima has to remind himself to keep from reaching out and touching the mannequin's face. He adjusts his glasses instead, sight blurring even as he speaks. "The nurse has a change of clothes. You can't expect to resume classes in your state."

Akashi looks down at himself, a slight pout surfacing as he muses. "I suppose you're right." He moves past Midorima and makes his way down towards the school clinic.

Midorima grabs a mop from the bathroom and locks it with his exit. He dutifully cleans after the other teen, letting not a single drop remain in their wake. Goodness knows people have seen him carrying more ridiculous items than a mop in these halls.

Akashi's pants are soaked through by the time they reach the clinic. The school doctor quickly whisks him away to another room and Midorima follows until the door is shut in his face. A friendly nurse approaches him and takes the mop from his hands, bringing it to the bathroom to clean up. She thanks him for his assistance and he tells her there's a bigger mess in the males' bathroom on the third floor.

••••••••••••

Akashi has been forever changed. Then again, they all have – changed for the worse as Kuroko would say. Teikou's basketball team has become unstoppable in their quest for victory. They are no longer the Generation of Miracles but a band of monsters out to destroy everyone that stands in their way.

Midorima makes his shots from the half-court line and Aomine charges through every defense, racking up points that dishearten even the bravest souls. Kise uses their opponents' strengths against them and Murasakibara personifies an impenetrable wall, dooming all attempts to score. Akashi never loses and Kuroko quits the team.

••••••••••••

Kuroko stares at the trophies lined up in neat rows beyond the glass, glinting under the low light and taunting him with the accolades but he isn't moved. Not when there's not a single smiling face in the accompanying photos. Well, there used to be but not anymore.

It's more than the philosophy that he's leaving behind, he tells himself, eyeing the first photo that includes him – smiling shyly under the arm wrapped around his shoulders. Aomine has shone blindingly bright even back then but there's a darkness in his eyes now that scares Kuroko as much as it challenges him to do something about it. And he does, he plans to.

He looks at the next photo and there he can see how they've become more than just acquaintances, a true team to be reckoned with, renowned for generations to come. Aomine's smile rivaled the sun that day when his raw talent started to bloom. No matter what Akashi would claim, Kuroko knows that he had found out first. He was Aomine's shadow after all, and even now he can still…

No. Kuroko refuses to go there. Not right now. Maybe some time in the future but not when the wounds are still fresh. It's all partly his fault for hoping against hope and now he must learn to stand on his own. He envies Momoi for not giving up, he wishes he had even just half of her valiant grace but he also knows that such qualities would only be wasted on him; he is but a shadow, after all. It's in his nature to find a new light.

The slam of the doors behind him is final. His first step out of these sacred halls is the hardest but after that decisive move, the rest are easy.

••••••••••••

In retrospect, Kuroko shouldn't have expected for things to be so easy since they rarely do end up as such. He lay in his bed that first night, unblinking. His new light is much like Aomine; too much, in fact, that he supposes he _does_ have a type. But this one's a little more ragged around the edges, practically shiny-new from the metaphorical box that he came from.

Kagami-kun is loud, a shameless glutton, and so unapologetically pure that Kuroko feels like some evil mastermind from those novels he constantly carries around. Kagami-kun loves basketball, with all his mind, all his heart, and it shows. It makes Kuroko's heart soar, it rings something deep in his very soul.

With Kagami he stands a chance. With Kagami he _proves_ his point to his former teammates. The wins are just a bonus, his true reward lies in the rekindled friendships and the new ones he bridges. Midorima would probably call such partnership a product of fate, and if Kuroko is inclined to believe so, well, Midorima doesn't need the satisfaction of knowing.

Actually, it's a little amusing that the offish shooting guard has become a light by his own right and found himself a shadow to boot. Takao reminds Kuroko of Kise, albeit with a lot more common sense. This Takao is gifted, though by no means on the same level as the Generation of Miracles or Kagami. Despite this, his partnership with Midorima makes them a formidable opponent on court. What Kuroko didn't expect to have to compete off of it as well.

He turns, displacing the covers as he reaches for the phone on his bedside table. Sleep refuses to grant him reprieve, as a result his mind is flooded with hoards of meaningless questions. His body is tired from the afternoon's drills and he vaguely wonders how Midorima does it, shooting perfectly, endlessly, day after day. The photo loads and his eyes are glued to Kagami's honest smile – one that Kuroko would never tire of seeing, one that he selfishly wants to be the sole recipient of. Some part of Kuroko gets disheartened the longer he stares at the photo, wishing to be the one beside his light.

If his suspicions are correct, then he really has no luck with love. Maybe he shouldn't have devoted himself so much to Kagami, maybe he should've waited longer after Aomine before finding a replacement, maybe his lack of sleep is making him think irrationally because he _knows_ – he knows it on the most intimate level of his being – that Kagami sees him in the same way. It's in the little things – that one burger from the stack reserved for him, the second longer that Kagami lingers when hugging him after a winning game, the noble (and amusing) effort Kagami puts in dealing with Nigou when he thinks Kuroko isn't looking. He loves the way Kagami has threaded so seamlessly into his life, the balance of power shared between them – pulsing and passionate, promising. Kuroko very much wants them to acknowledge this possibility, wants this dream to become a reality much like the way all the others have.

He wants everything with Kagami.


	8. Started out with a kiss

••••••••••••

**Chapter Seven**

_It started out with a kiss_

••••••••••••

In complete contrast to their easy attitude yesterday, Yosen's double aces are merciless in the quarter finals. The packed stadium doesn't even know who it's cheering for, the afternoon heat dissipated by the energetic chanting from seas of orange and pink. Shutoku has called for a time-out.

Coach Nakatani barks his final orders, spewing spit that's lost in the sweat running down his players' tired physiques. Jenrya adjusts their offensive strategy. They've only got ten seconds to pull through. They're ten seconds away from losing or gaining a chance at the title match.

Takao wipes the face towel over his eyes, he's exhausted but there's no way he's going to sub out in this crucial moment. Maybe he shouldn't have stayed up so late last night but now isn't the time for regrets. Now is the time to pour his very soul into securing their win. Midorima is breathing hard beside him, hair matted with how profusely he's sweating. There's something feral in the way he's been playing, purpose-driven to the point that he damn near makes a replay of their final training camp match last summer. Coach Nakatani had anticipated it somehow and thwarted the setback early on. There's a different tint in his eyes when they get insanely focused like that and only the hoop has been on the receiving end of that look more than Takao. It's not the Zone – Takao has yet to see Midorima in it – but it's something very close.

The buzzer sounds and the huddles disperse. From the Yosen bench, sparks of purple energy rise with Murasakibara who takes his position under the net.

Himuro is pitted against Midorima but for a split second he glances at Takao who's about to receive the ball from the referee. Silver meets coal and Takao swallows down a curse. Damn Himuro for messing up his mind.

With a whistle, the game is back in play. Takao maneuvers around two towering blockers – _where does Yosen keep getting these titans?_ He passes to Jenrya and keeps moving. There's no time to second guess. He penetrates the inside of the defense, hearing the continuous thump of the ball as Jenrya shouts something at Hisagi. Everything's according to plan so far.

Rubber soles skid on the floor as he stops, blocked by Yosen's formidable center. Isn't Marufuji supposed to be guarding this guy? His throat dries at the sheer power emanating from his opponent. Himuro wasn't kidding about Murasakibara's priorities. Somehow he manages to grin at the giant, cheeky even in the face of death. Whatever. His Hawk Eye alerts him of Hisagi's pass and he turns, so sure of his ability to deliver the ball into his ace's hands. The ball barely grazes his fingers when Murasakibara swats it away.

Himuro smiles at Midorima, hearing Takao's startled yelp. "Sorry for your loss." Slinking away, he catches the ball and releases it as the timer drops to zero.

Takao couldn't bear to look but he can hear the swish of the net as Yosen's final score tops theirs by two measly points. Over the clamor of cheers and the resounding buzzer, Takao finds himself attuned to a not-so-languid voice coming from just above him.

"What did I tell you about breaking hearts, puny point guard?" Murasakibara tilts his head, shadows covering his eyes as he pins Takao with a deadly stare.

Adrenalin sets fire to the anger that's welled up inside him, burning hot under his skin and pushing him into action. Takao grits his teeth, defiantly staring up at Yosen's ace. "What's that supposed to mean?"

A cruel smile curls at the corner of Murasakibara's lips. "Aka-chin sends his regards."

Takao stands frozen and would've stayed as such if not for Jenrya who takes him by the arm and pulls him towards the half-court line where everyone else is waiting. With all ten players facing each other, Takao tries his hardest not to cry, not to scream out and demand an explanation.

Rising from his bow after the referee has declared Yosen's win, Midorima finds Murasakibara staring at him. The energy that he'd been radiating in the final quarter has worn out but the clarity in them is shining still. Midorima nods, earning a lazy smile in response – one that he remembers to mean Murasakibara is proud of himself for doing something praise-worthy.

••••••••••••

There's a one hour interval before the next match but they're not staying to watch. The locker room is silent save for the half-hearted motions of the players changing out of sweat-soaked jerseys and into more comfortable clothes. When most everyone is dressed, Jenrya and the other third years line up to deliver their farewell speech.

"Takao." Jenrya moves forward to put his hand on their point guard's shoulder. "I wish you the best of luck in leading the team next year. I can only bring us so far but maybe you can take them higher; seat the King of the East on its rightful throne."

"What – Me?" Takao sputters; even with the Hawk Eye he didn't see this coming. "_Me_? After I fumbled that last pass?" They can't be serious. He's not fit to lead, emotionally (and maybe psychologically) speaking.

The retiring captain merely nods. "You know this team by heart," he says, which Takao takes to mean that he knows their ace better than anyone else.

It's absurd because as far as Takao knows he's been slowly and surely and _stupidly_ severing that most valuable connection. Proof of it is how Midorima is sitting on the opposite end of the bench right now.

"Can I think about it? Being Captain is a lot of responsibility and I don't think… I'm not…" Takao manages to say as much before he trails off, turning to their coach who approves his request with a nod.

As the group exits, Takao stays behind pretending to tie his shoes, whereas Midorima remains a statue on the bench. His lucky item, a scale model airplane, takes the space vacated by their teammates.

The silence is suffocating and Takao is just about ready to explode. He takes a deep breath. "People have been saying the weirdest things to me today," he starts with a huff, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. Even without looking, he knows that Midorima hasn't moved, hasn't raised his head to recognize that Takao is speaking to him, and that's fine. Takao just needs to talk, let it all out. It doesn't matter if Midorima is there or not. (Except it totally does.) "Captaincy. Ha!" Takao rakes both hands through his hair, messing it up and pulling at it. "I don't understand why they didn't offer it to you! You're our ace, Shin-chan, and I'm just… I'm me!"

The self-depreciating tone is almost enough to push words out of Midorima's mouth but he keeps mum. He's angry at himself. He'd given it his all and it still wasn't enough. He'd let his team down again but more pressingly, he'd failed to show Takao that there's something for him here. That he doesn't have to look far, that he should stay and keep his focus _right here_ because Midorima can take care of the points and the defense and everything else if Takao would just _look_ at him – only him. It's Midorima's one unspoken selfish wish for the day and he blew it.

"I'm not a leader." _I'm just a shadow. **Your **shadow**.**_Takao slumps at the thought, elbows digging into his knees, face covered by his hands. "Being captain is no piece of cake, damn it." And speaking of cakes… The low fire that's settled in his belly sparks up at a certain memory. "Y'know, Shin-chan, your friend Murasakibara told me something funny at the end of the match…"

In spite of himself, Midorima raises his head a little.

Takao bites at his lip, unsure how he wants to sound as he repeats those poisonous words. "He said that Akashi sends his regards." There. Flat. Maybe with a little (a lot of) sneering. Takao slides his gaze towards the other end of the bench where Midorima has sat up and is staring back at him. "So Akashi's got hitmen from other teams, too? Fantastic."

"Akashi had nothing to do with the turnout of that match," Midorima tells him, objective. And even if Akashi had ordered Murasakibara to go all-out against them, Midorima is sure that Murasakibara has planned to do so even without Akashi's command; this is the final year of Yosen's formidable tandem, after all.

It's no surprise that Midorima has taken Akashi's side. Takao's mouth tastes a little bitter and it seeps into his tone. "I know. It's my fault we lost. It's never you or any of your damn Miracles' faults!"

Midorima opens his mouth to argue, to point out that their loss was a consequence of his own inadequacy, but Takao talks right over him.

"You always take their side, Shin-chan!"

"Well, you can't blame them for everything," Midorima snaps, feeling the need to match the heightened tension in Takao's voice. As always, he's no good at controlling himself when it comes to the other teen; the calm and collectedness he prides himself on is lost when faced with a Takao that's just bursting with emotions. "Not when much of the blame lies in our own hands."

"And I can't keep apologizing to you for every little thing," Takao cries, facing Midorima with a glare – not a trace of his characteristic smile on his face.

"I am not asking for your apology." Midorima's brows are furrowed, his lips pressed to a line. _You don't have to apologize_. "I just wish you'd learn to take responsibility." _Learn from this loss and grow. Captain Jenrya offered me the captaincy but I refused because I know of a better candidate._

Takao wrings his hands together. He'll never win against Midorima. Not that he ever expects to, not that he really wants to. All he wants is for them to stand on the same ground and he's given that chance on court – a chance to prove his worth, his skill, his devotion. People keep telling him it's not whether you win or lose; it's how you play the game. Takao has been playing this game ever since he can remember. He's watched in awe of the better players and set his goals as high as he can get them, he trains and trains until he pukes his guts out and then he goes back for more. He doesn't deceive himself with dreaming of being on the same skill level as the Generation of Miracles but at the very least – "Why can't you just understand?" Takao whines, suddenly quiet like a kicked puppy.

This is certainly not how this conversation is supposed to go. Midorima is sure they're no longer on the same page; possibly not even on the same book. He never wants to see Takao look so defeated but that seems to be the only expression he brings out in his partner. Can they even be called partners? They're not even communicating properly. It's a right mess and Midorima wants nothing more than to fix it but what comes out of his mouth is - "If you want sympathy, then go run to Kagami" – which is apparently the worst possible thing he could have said at that moment.

The change in Takao is immediate. His eyes dilate and his face blotches with red, the look of the hunted taking over his defeated expression from moments before. His mouth opens and closes without a sound, he works his throat, his mind, but nothing comes out. Heartbeat thumping to the tune of panic, Takao wonders how could Midorima possibly know anything about _that_.

Neither of them speaks for a pregnant second, staring and deducing what they can from similarly distant expressions.

Takao moves first, slinging his bag over one shoulder. "Maybe I will." The unsteady first steps break out to a run the second he's out of the locker room.

••••••••••••

"Excuse me, coach, I need to talk to one Kagami Tai-chan, please."

Riko looks up, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, surprised to find Shutoku's Takao standing beside her. The rest of his team has supposedly left, but more importantly she knows that he can't seriously expect to borrow her player when the game starts in fifteen minutes. "Can't it wait until after the match?"

"Just five minutes," Takao pleads, anxiety showing in the way he's rocking on his heels. "Or even one. Just give me one minute with him."

Pursing her lips, Riko has a firm reprove at the tip of her tongue when who else but Seirin's ace himself jogs up to them.

"Takao." It's a question as much as a greeting. Kagami is staring at him with a mix of worry and confusion.

"A quick talk, Tai-chan, that's all I'm asking," Takao implores, looking between ace and coach until Riko sighs, giving in.

"Fine. Make it super quick."

Takao gives a low bow. "Thank you."

Out on the court, Kuroko watches his light walk out with Shutoku's shadow. Hyuga passes a basketball over and he goes for a shoot with little success. Running to the back of the line, he catches Akashi's eyes from the other side of the court. Akashi's mien is subdued but Kuroko has a feeling that they were looking at the same thing just now.

The hallways are nearly empty with the second match of the day about to start. Kagami crosses his arms once Takao leads them to a stop, red catching silver in the brightly lit hall.

"This better be important," Kagami huffs.

"Oh, it is." Takao's expression turns dark as he steels himself. "What the hell did you tell my Shin-chan?"

"Midorima?" Kagami scowls, having no clue what brought this on. "I don't talk to the guy as much as I can help it."

"Then how did he _know_?"

"Know about what?"

"_You know what_!" Takao hisses, the color in his face collecting over his cheeks.

It's painfully obvious the moment it clicks for Kagami. He starts acting all nervous and suddenly can't look Takao in the eye. "Oh. _That_. W-What on earth made you think I'll tell him about _that_?"

"Well, I sure as hell didn't tell him." Takao crosses his arms. "And it was just you and me, buddy."

"But it was nothing!" Kagami exclaims. "You told me it was nothing!"

"It is!" Takao agrees, desperate to get to the bottom of this. "But for some reason Shin-chan knows and Murasakibara knows and I'll bet my Hawk Eyes that Akashi freaking knows, too!" He makes a frustrated noise and barely stops himself from stomping his feet.

"Whoa, whoa, how do you even–" The incinerating look on Takao's face silences him. Kagami clears his throat and tries a new approach. "Well, even if they know just tell them it's nothing!"

"And you seriously think they'll listen? To me?"

"Maybe. If you don't sound so hysteric," Kagami says, wryly. He places a hand on either side of Takao's temples and smooths the crinkled line of his brows with his thumb. "Yosen is one hell of a team and you're probably just reeling from the game results. Just… Calm down, alright? Midorima will listen to you, he has to, and once he understands, who cares about anyone else, yeah?"

Takao closes his eyes, letting Kagami's words wash over him like a waterfall; it's a pretty cleansing experience. Maybe he was going a little crazy back there; he never liked cramped spaces. Midorima didn't deserve to be shouted at like that. Midorima was only looking out for him, like he always does, because Takao is a big pain in the ass but Midorima keeps him around despite it all. Because Midorima cares. Ah, shit. "Sorry for dragging you out here," he mumbles, wrapping his arms around Kagami's middle. He needs some sort of stability and Kagami is convenient enough to provide it. "I must've looked like a madman in front of Coach Riko."

Kagami grins, patting the top of Takao's head. "Yeah, you did. Why do you think I rushed over there the second I saw your crazy ass?"

"Hey. My ass isn't–"

"I know," Kagami interjects, ignoring the heat that creeps over his cheeks when Takao grins up at him. "And I could care less because I have no interest in it whatsoever. You, on the other hand…" He tucks his chin to his chest so that they can see eye to eye in their entangled position. "You're going to be fine."

"Mm, Kuroko is a lucky man," Takao says, quiet so that only Kagami would hear.

"Well, you're not a total disaster yourself," Kagami returns, pressing a kiss to Takao's forehead.

"Gee, thanks." The watery smile making its way across Takao's features stop short of reaching his eyes. In a split second, his relaxed posture stiffens and time slows down as he registers a figure just at the edges of his vision. Takao retracts his arms, jumping away from Kagami and turning to where Midorima is standing, staring at them from the end of the hallway. "S-Shin-chan…"

Kagami's eyes go wide. He swivels to face Midorima and nearly staggers back at the intensity of the anger he can sense boiling inside the other teen. "This isn't what it looks like."

"Go die." Midorima's tone drips with contempt and he walks out on them in quick, decisive steps.

"Mother of_ fuck_," Kagami swears in English. Beside him, Takao is muttering "I am dead, I am dead" in a broken whisper.

From around the corner echoes a chirpy greeting, "Hey, Midorimacchi~ Hey – Ow! What–?"

"Look where you're fucking going!" A gruff voice that is _definitely_ _not_ Midorima follows.

"All of you should just die!" There. That one's Midorima, sounding farther and farther away (though no less angry) with every syllable.

Kise's pouting face morphs into concern when he finds the other pair standing static in the middle of the hallway. "What are you two doing here?" he asks with a tilt of the head.

"You're up against Rakuzan, aren't ya?" Aomine scowls at Kagami who finally snaps to attention.

"Oh shit, right." Kagami knows he should run back to the court stat but… "Takao, I am so sorry. Fuck, I didn't know–"

But Takao isn't processing anything, eyes unseeing as he looks straight ahead.

"Shit." Kagami runs a hand through his hair, looking helplessly at Kise and Aomine, both of whom are sending him strange looks. "Long story short, Midorima saw us and told us to go die. Takao seems to have taken that literally and–" A booming voice from the stereo system announces that the Seirin vs. Rakuzan game will be starting shortly. "Damn it."

Aomine looks unimpressed, wagging his pointing finger between Kagami and Takao. "So you two are…"

"No!" Kagami is one popped vein away from strangling Touou's ace. "There is _nothing_ going on but – Argh! I can't leave him like this!"

"I'll take care of him," Kise speaks up with a sudden sense of purpose. He moves to Takao's side, waving a hand in front of his face. No reaction. "Aominecchi, you drag Kagamicchi here to his game." When both teens only stare at him, Kise shoos them away with his hand. "Go! Takaocchi is in good hands. Get going, Kagamicchi! And good luck~"

"Alright, you heard the guy." Aomine grabs Kagami by the collar of his jersey and hauls him in the direction of the court.

Kagami chokes for half a moment before wresting himself away and jogging ahead. He looks back at Takao and grudgingly shoves his worries to the back of his mind.

Aomine catches up to him easily, but says nothing.

He can feel the glare sent his way and Kagami resists the urge to roll his eyes. "No, Aomine. Whatever ridiculous thing you're thinking about – the answer's no."

"Good," Aomine spits out. "Because if I find out you're playing Tetsu, I won't just tell you to die. I'll bury you myself."

Kagami huffs. _Look who's talking._

••••••••••••

"Takaochhi… Hey, Takaocchi…"

The soothing voice reaches him through the fog that has enveloped his mind. He recognizes it as that of a friend and reaches for it. Takao shakes his head, blinking as he's reacquainted with his surroundings. He finds himself in one of the snack bars inside the sports arena, he breathes in the smell of food and his stomach grumbles a little. Looking around, he nearly falls off his seat at the sight of Kise's smiling face on the other side of the table. "Whoa."

"Welcome back, Takaocchi," Kise greets, pacifying and kind. "You gave us quite a scare back there. Feeling better?"

"I guess," Takao mumbles, putting his palm over his forehead and finding a normal temperature. "I'm not sick or anything but…"

Kise forces himself to hold still as Takao's face crumples right in front of him.

"Hey, Kise-chi…" Takao says in a hushed tone, worrying his bottom lip. "Shin-chan just told me to go die, didn't he?"

"Well~ that's true, but he says that to me all the time," Kise points out gently. "He never really means it."

"But he does, this time, he does." His blurry vision tells him he's about to cry more than the fact that his hands are shaking even as he forces to keep them fisted over his lap. "I keep trying to fix things but I just… I only mess it up even more."

Kise allows him a few seconds of silence. Treading gently, he prods. "Can you really not think of any reason why Midorimacchi would act that way?"

Takao looks at him, crushed. "Not you, too."

Kise raises both hands in a show of mollification. "That photo you posted yesterday? Everyone's seen it. And it's nice to see all you guys being so chummy but… you and Kagamicchi… you kind of stood out. Anyone would've assumed there was something going on."

"To be fair," Takao grimaces through his confession. "I was only supposed to meet up with Tai-chan yesterday… The other guys just… happened."

The smile falls right off Kise's face. His sharp eyes bore into Takao's, reading every tick in his expression, every shift of his body. "You better start explaining, Takaocchi. Now."


	9. Halfway There

••••••••••••

**Chapter Seven-point-five**

_Halfway there_

••••••••••••

Rakuzan is leading by thirteen points when the buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the second quarter. They're allotted a ten-minute break before the last half of the game begins. Kagami storms off the court, frustrated, grabbing his bag and not even looking at his teammates before walking out. He's got three personal fouls on the ledger.

Kuroko watches him worriedly from the bench. Unlike the rest of Seirin who are stunned by the display, Kuroko makes to hurry after his light.

Riko, however, purses her lips and grabs Kuroko by the arm, shaking her head. She leads the team to their locker room to go over their strategy for this crucial match.

••••••••••••

Of course Takao wouldn't be in the hallway where he left him with Kise. Kagami scolds himself for having such a scrambled mind and heads out of the arena to get some fresh air. Slumping down on one of the benches, he empties his water bottle into his mouth but it's not enough to sate his thirst. He's way too tired for having just played half of the game; then again, they _are _up against the Uncrowned Kings and the Emperor of Rakuzan. The humid afternoon air does nothing to cool off his frizzled senses.

Kagami hates how he can't seem to find focus. He _knows_ how dire their situation is but he still can't get it together, he can't get Takao's haunted expression out of his head. Growling, he slams his fists onto his thighs. Kagami has disconnected from his team – in this moment, rather literally so – and for what?

His phone vibrates from inside the bag and Kagami startles, somehow forgetting he'd brought it with him. Seeing the brightened screen and the name flashing at him gets Kagami sitting up straighter.

**From: Takao  
Subject: Sorry**  
:: I messed up real bad. Sorry for dragging you into this. I'll call you later.

Kagami's frown etches deeper on his face. There _is_ no later, damn it. He needs his peace of mind _right now_. Kagami hits call and presses the device against his ear; Takao picks up after two rings.

"T-Tai-chan?"

Heat bursts from his chest at hearing that voice. The tension along his shoulders disperse and Kagami closes his eyes, breathing deep. "Where are you?"

"I'm…" The sound of a car horn blaring kicks up the static as Takao hesitates in replying. "I'm okay but what – why are you calling? You have a game–"

"It's halftime. I saw Kise in the stands. I thought he said he'd be with you but–"

"Tai-chan, I told you I'm fine. That's why I sent Kise back." Takao's tone gets insistent over the line but they both know it's a lie. Hours of phone conversations has made Kagami familiar with the tone Takao uses when he's not honest with himself. His next words are delivered softer. "Focus on your game, yeah? I'm sorry for distracting you."

_You're not a distraction_, Kagami wants to say but when he opens his eyes, Kuroko is standing right in front of him. The words get stuck in his throat and he's unable to look away when Kuroko is staring at him with that expression. "I've been playing like shit, you know, and maybe I _was_ a little distracted but…" At this point, Kagami is sure he's talking to both shadows. Revived passion flares up in red irises. "I can only get better from here."

"I know you will," Takao assures him. From the background comes a voice calling for the Shutoku player to hurry, it eases off Kagami's worries of Takao being alone. "Talk to you later, Tai-chan."

Still – "Wait!"

"Hm?"

Kagami's grip on the phone tightens a little. Not even Kuroko's staring can stop him from asking, "You promise you're alright?"

There's a sharp inhale before Takao answers him. "Yeah. I promise." And there's enough of a smile hinted in his tone for Kagami to accept it without argument.

Bringing down his phone once Takao ends their call, Kagami prepares to meet Kuroko's judgment. He bows his whole upper body low and braces himself with a palm on each knee. "You can whack me on the head. Knock some sense into me. I know I deserve it."

Kuroko moves forward, stopping within two feet of the impressively folded stature. "Kagami-kun is being ridiculous," he states. "We can't beat Rakuzan if our ace is running around with a concussion."

Kagami looks up at him, peering out of one eye like he's making sure Kuroko doesn't have a fist ready to punch him. Deeming it safe, Kagami sits upright. "Apologies won't take away those fouls or bring back lost points. So give me another chance, Kuroko."

"Should I want to know what happened for you to act like you did?" Kuroko ventures with a slight tilt of the head. It's almost unheard of to have a distracted Kagami playing on court yet the whole stadium just witnessed that, in an official tournament no less. It doesn't take much guessing to figure out who Kagami was talking to on the phone just now.

"It's complicated," Kagami blurts out. They stare at each other for a beat, then Kagami stands up, hitching his bag over one shoulder. "And coach will kill the both of us dead if we don't head back. Damn it, now you're in trouble, too."

"Am I?" Kuroko asks, pulling his varsity jacket tighter around himself.

"Yeah," Kagami grunts, agitatedly running a hand through his two-toned hair. "You shouldn't have come after me, you know. Now we both missed the important strategy talk." They slip through the automatic doors of the arena, feet leading them by memory to the locker room area.

"Was it worth it, Kagami-kun?" Kuroko's question stalls them just outside the door bearing their school name. Vague silhouettes and muffled voices are filtered through the opaque window. By the look of things, their teammates are far from having lost all hope.

Kagami looks down at his partner, cast in shadow by his height against the ceiling's light fixtures. "Huh?"

The answer is written in Kagami's expression – determination and calm, exactly what they need to turn the game into their favor – but Kuroko's relief isn't wholehearted. It's a sad realization that all his worrying has been trivial, that Kagami has righted himself just fine without his help. Kuroko is well-aware that his reasons for going after Kagami were not entirely for the benefit of their team. He wanted to be the one but –

"There you are!"

Kagami balks for a second, caught off-guard, before bravely facing the collective wrath of Seirin's basketball team. "I can't excuse what I've done," he starts. "But if you'd still let me play–"

"Don't waste your breath," Riko snaps at him, pushing past her players to stand up front. "If you weren't key to the winning this game I'd have you benched until the last quarter. We're going into the final half, I don't need to tell how important this is for us."

Stealing a quick glance at the third years behind the coach, Kagami squares his jaw and nods. The weight of his actions dawns on him after seeing the resolve emanating from Kiyoshi and the rest of the upperclassmen. His selfish playing brought this on and the only way to recover from it is to clear his mind and focus on winning.

"So is your head screwed on straight or do I have to work it out for you?" Riko's rhetorical question is punctuated by the fist she pounds into her open palm.

"I – I'm fine!" Kagami splutters, taking a precautionary step back.

Riko narrows her eyes at him, height difference nullified by the authority in her expression. "And you better stay fine." The _or else_ remains unspoken but it is heavily implied with the look she gives him. Having determined the effectiveness of her words, Riko leads her team back to the court.

Koganei smacks Kagami's shoulder as he passes, a jesting gesture that brings out a smile from his underclassman. Furihata, who has subbed for Kuroko in the last few minutes of the second quarter, nods at him. "We're counting on you, ace," Furihata adds before heading out.

Lagging behind the team, Kagami looks beside him with a fading smile. "Kuroko."

The shorter player side-eyes him while keeping pace, a wordless notion that he's listening. _What is it?_

"Just…" Kagami averts his eyes, arms squeezed tight to his sides with nowhere to stuff his hands in. "Thanks for finding me."

Blinking, Kuroko stares at his feet, muttering his response to the floor. "I didn't do anything, though." He didn't have to, Kagami already had who he needed.

"Yeah, you did," Kagami breathes, equally quiet and timid. His gaze slides over to Kuroko, almost shy, struck by the frown he finds tugging at the corner of thin lips. "Oi."

Faltering in his steps, Kuroko finds a fist held up to him with Kagami's assuring smile just beyond it. Kuroko doesn't understand what it's for until Kagami nudges him, walking closer to his side.

"Who knows where I would've ended up if I didn't see you there," Kagami mutters. Finding Kuroko in front of him had been a surprise, but it also served to be a reminder of what should've been his priorities. He's glad that Takao has regained his senses, relieved that the guy has people looking after him, but if he hasn't seen Kuroko, Kagami knows that he would've gone after Takao and he definitely (maybe?) would've regretted that.

Mouth slightly ajar, Kuroko customarily raises his own fist to meet Kagami's. The back of their hands remain touching after the fist bump and with the way Kagami is looking at him – in that very Kagami way of his that lets you know he's not looking at any one else when you're right in front of him – Kuroko finally surrenders to that little voice that's been nagging at him for over a year now.

Kuroko's hand is cold, fingers thin and pale but no less calloused than his own. Once the initial shock of the gesture fades, Kagami wastes no second in returning the uncertain grip. Not that he expects his own hand to be any warmer but still, he pulls their hands low in between them to make it easier. His hold on Kuroko is secure, proud to have replaced the unsightly frown with a smile.

There are so many things to be said but for now (as it has been for a long time) just knowing that they have each other as teammates, partners, friends (_and more_) is enough. A tangible silence blankets Seirin's light and shadow for the few short minutes it takes for their team to arrive back on court. Deafening cheers greet them, their audience just as pumped to see the game to its end.

••••••••••••

**A/N: **Sorry it's short. This was not part of the plan but my Kagami!muse insisted to have it's own mini-chapter so here we are... I guess this really means that the Takagami ship has sunk, gomen. I really wanted them to work out, though... Carly Rae Jepsen's _This Kiss_ is definitely a Takagami song.


	10. On faith

••••••••••••

**Chapter Eight**

_On faith and love and miracles_

••••••••••••

His thumb hovers over the send button for the longest time. Takao stares at the message, wondering if it was even worth sending since Midorima most likely has no intention of speaking to him forever with the way he'd stormed out yesterday.

It's six in the morning and he's still cocooned in warm blankets. He doesn't feel like getting up today and if it weren't for the fact that he'd made an appointment with Kise – appointment and Kise being two words he'd never expected to use in the same sentence – Takao would've slept until noon. It's a gray Monday, the worst kind of Monday there is, and it's not looking to be a good start to the week.

The phone buzzes and Takao nearly drops it to the floor but it's his stomach that drops (into some transdimensional abyss, he assumes) upon seeing who the message is from.

**From: Shin-chan~**  
**Subject: Don't bother.**

It's like a punch to the gut but at the same time it's a relief that he doesn't have to explain why he won't be coming to school. He swiftly deletes the draft message and curls in tighter into himself. Breakfast is a brief affair and when his parents ask why he's not rushing to school, Takao gives them the short answer of needing a break. They assume it's because of yesterday's loss and tell him that one day is fine but to be sure to be back in school tomorrow. Takao just nods around a spoonful of cold cereal.

He's dressed and out the door by six-thirty. He takes the train to Kanagawa where, sure enough, Kise has a ride waiting for him.

Their conversation yesterday was disrupted by the arrival of Shutoku alumni who had gone searching when they found him and Midorima absent from the rest of the guys boarding the school bus. Kise left him in the care of Miyaji and Ootsubo, all the while making it clear that they were nowhere near done with their talk. Hence the meet-up, since Kise has a shoot in the morning (excusing him from school) and there is a marginally lower chance of running into acquaintances in Kanagawa.

It was nice to catch up with his former captain and teammate. More than that, talking with them cleared up his mind a little on the topic of Shutoku's captaincy. If they weren't interrupted by Kagami's call, Takao would've found courage to ask about more personal matters but he's grateful that he didn't in the end.

Takao squints at the consecutive camera flashes, wondering how Kise can stand the brightness and heat. He has witnessed at least five costume changes and people all around him are continuously rushing to get the extras lined up for the next shot (and the next one, and the one after that.) Takao appreciates the meticulously maintained model-figures and the costly designer clothes wrapped around them; he breathes in various top-of-the-line perfumes and wonders about the point of it since smell can't be captured on camera anyway. Kise looks in his direction every so often as though making sure that he didn't run off – fat chance considering he's stuffing himself with pretzels at the buffet table. On the whole, the experience did its job of lulling his mind into a false sense of security.

Lunch is provided for but, since the shoot is done, Kise politely declines and whisks Takao off site. The chauffeur brings them to the nearest mall where Kise talks him into having Thai food at his favorite restaurant.

"So how're you faring, Takaocchi?" Kise asks as they wait for their food.

"So and so," Takao replies, taking too much interest in the tablecloth's pattern of gold threads sewn into deep reds and purple. "I'm probably at some level of stress-eating but I'm good for the most part."

"Uh-huh. Have you talked to Midorimacchi at all since yesterday?"

"I was planning to." Takao meets Kise's eyes for a brief second before looking over at the draperies. "I was going to tell him I can't cart him to school this morning because it's only polite, y'know, I can't have him waiting on me. But he beat me to it. He said, _Don't_ _bother_, and that's pretty much summarizes where we're standing at the moment."

A waiter comes around, bringing their drinks. Kise continues once the guy leaves. "So what are you planning to do?"

Takao's cheeks puff up and he slowly lets the air out. "Of course I want to fix things but I just… I don't know where to start."

"You know, you still owe me the full story on you and Kagamicchi," Kise grins in contrast to Takao's pout. "So why don't we start there?"

Takao's retelling lasts throughout lunch and carries over to the shopping that Kise insists they must do because it relieves stress or something. They're at their third store when Takao reaches the end of his tale.

"So then, Tai-chan assures me that Shin-chan _does_ care, and–" He pauses as he pushes his head through the collar of a brightly-patterned sweater, resuming once he's able to breathe freely again. "I already know those things, of course, but my mind was in such a mess. And sometimes it really helps to have someone that understands." Takao looks himself in the mirror before opening the door.

"That's cute," Kise beams at the sight of Takao's new outfit. "You have _got_ to get that – No wait, silly me, _I'm_ getting you that."

Smiling wryly, Takao tries to dissuade him for the millionth time. "You don't really have to–"

"Oh, but I do," Kise interjects, looking over at Takao like he would a fond pet. "Try these next." He hands over an armful of jeans which Takao takes with a shake of his head. When the fitting room door shuts, he calls out. "So you're like, half-in-love with Kagamicchi." _Oh, where was Momoicchi when he needed someone to squeal with? Juicy gossip like this don't usually happen outside of television._

"No!" Takao denies through the door, glad that Kise can't see the blush on face. He picks out a dark blue pair from the stack of colored denims. "Tai-chan's just a friend. A really close one, granted–"

"But you said the kiss was nice!" Kise points out, playing with his earring as he wheedles out information.

"Exactly. Just… nice." Takao's voice is muffled as he peels off his pants and pulls on one of the pairs Kise had picked out. "Not spectacular, or life-changing, or anything." What happened _after_ the kiss was definitely more than nice but some things are better left private. And it's generally better not to think of those kinds of stuff when trying on tight-fitting clothes.

"Poor Kurokocchi…" Kise sighs, smiling when he hears Takao laugh.

"Tai-chan definitely needs more practice but–" Takao wriggles into the denim material, pulling at it until it rests on his hip. He frowns at the bulge of his full stomach, sucking it in before zipping up and buttoning the jeans. "The thing is I brought this whole fiasco on to myself and Tai-chan is just a not-so-innocent bystander that I've dragged down with me."

"So what I'm getting is that you _made out_ with Kagamicchi to _prove_ that you like Midorimacchi more?"

Coming from Kise, it sounds like the stupidest decision anyone could've made but – "Yep."

"Okay." The fitting room door opens a second time with Takao twisting sideways, trying to see the how the material clung to his legs. Kise goes over to inspect it up close, leaning leisurely on the doorframe as though it was one of those photo shoot props. Meeting Takao's gaze through the mirror's reflection, he smirks. "Look at you. Dressing up for a special someone?"

"Oh, you know…" Takao lowers his eyelids halfway, jutting out his hip to check the silver piping running along the side seam. "There's this luck-obsessed basketball prodigy who is currently not acknowledging my existence and whose friends are out to get me."

"Hey!" Kise pouts, playful with a slight touch of offense. "You can't be thinking that I'm doing this out of anything but the goodness of my heart~"

"I know that," Takao assures the blond. "But I also know that you Miracles have this unbreakable _bond_ and that no matter how much you claim to be rivals on court, you still have each other's backs. It's admirable, really."

Kise goes quiet at that, his mien turning serious as gold catches silver. "In that case, you must understand that whatever Akashicchi may or may not have orchestrated, he's only doing it because he's looking after Midorimacchi's best interest. Kurokocchi's too, by extension. He wouldn't go to drastic measures if there isn't a damn good reason behind it."

A long moment passes where Takao puts up a brave front. When Midorima says those things, he can't help but object out of some twisted prerogative to oppose anything and everything that involves the Rakuzan captain. He can sense an intricate history between those two and it irks him that he will never fully understand it; all he can do is wonder and fume about how he will never match up. How can he when he's giving in to all these insecurities whereas Akashi is always so composed, so sure of what he wants – just like Midorima and nothing like Takao. He groans, deflating in front of Kise. "I can't believe I'm the villain in my own story."

Of all the things Takao could've said, Kise never expected that. He backs away from the door so that Takao can close it and change back to his own clothes.

When Takao emerges, it's with a meager smile. "I don't think I'll be getting these after all, Kise-chi."

"I thought I already told you this one's on me," Kise reminds him, nudging shoulders in an attempt to bring out a bigger smile from Takao.

"Nah, it's cool," Takao assures him, picking up the slew of shopping bags they've acquired so far. "You already got me all these other things. If I let you spoil me more, I might be obligated to date you or something…"

Kise's laugh is pure as he gathers his share of the bags, drawing the attention of every single store attendant (most of them wearing dreamy looks on their faces). "Fix things first with Midorimacchi before we talk about going on dates, okay?"

"You seriously believe I have a chance?" Takao asks as they exit the store.

Kise bestows him an all-knowing look. "And you don't?"

••••••••••••

The last thing Kuroko expects is a text from Takao asking to meet up after school. He assumes that Takao has sent the message to the wrong number and he has elected to ignore it until a second message arrives an hour later, telling him that Takao is outside the school gates, waiting. Kuroko has half a mind to forward the message trail to Kagami when his phone vibrates a third time, the screen declaring an incoming call.

Kuroko marks his page and vacates his table, slinging his bag over one shoulder as he exits the library and takes the call.

Takao's cheerful voice greets him the second he picks up. "Kuroko! You weren't replying so I got worried~"

Kuroko realizes this is as good a confirmation as any. "Takao-kun."

"Sorry that this is so sudden," Takao babbles. "But I need your expert advice real bad!"

"My… advice…" Kuroko echoes, feet leading him out the school building of their accord. He hardly considers himself an expert on anything (except passing, of course) to warrant people seeking out his thoughts. "On what subject?"

"Well, I think it's better if we talk about it face to face." Takao grins, pushing himself off the brick wall, alerted of Kuroko's approach. He looks around and beams wide, waving at the other teen. "I'm surprised you're not having practice…"

"Coach and the other third years were required to attend a career talk so practice was cancelled."

"Oh okay. Let's go, then."

Ending the call, Kuroko pockets his phone and comes up to his visitor. Standing this close, he can see how forced Takao's enthusiasm is, the faded darkness lining his eyes foretelling the nature of their discussion. Kuroko has an inkling of what this could be about. "Lead the way."

A couple of blocks from Seirin High School is a play park that's filled with children in the summer but is relatively abandoned during chilly weather. Takao forgoes the empty benches for the swings, leaning his bike on the main structure. He takes a seat and sways a little, recalling the speech he'd rehearsed on the way. Kuroko takes the swing beside him, feet together as he waits for the other to start.

Mist clouds over his mouth as he exhales, finally skidding to a stop. Takao looks Kuroko in the eyes, his optimism dissipating like the breath of courage he just took. "Considering that you voluntarily joined me, I'm keeping my hopes up that you don't want me dead. Unlike some people."

"You're exaggerating," Kuroko points out, bland as ever.

"Maybe." Takao gives a noncommittal shrug. "Let me just get to the point, okay? There is nothing going on between me and Tai-chan."

Kuroko blinks, slow, trying to gauge the sincerity in that declaration… and that nickname. The playful intimacy of it just rubs him the wrong way.

Faced with stony silence, Takao fidgets. "I mean, not anymore." He picks out the minute display of surprise in Kuroko's impassive features and hastily adds, "T-That's to say, we kind of had this thing – like, we hung out and occasionally played one-on-ones – but there wasn't anything romantic about those times. It was totally a friends thing. Until last Saturday, when Himuro totally ruined everything so we wanted to prove him wrong and maybe there _was_ something not-so-platonic about what happened but–" Takao realizes he's word-vomiting and snaps his mouth shut before he digs himself a second (or is it his third?) grave.

"You're being exceptionally vague, Takao-kun," Kuroko comments after a beat of silence. The winter is slowly dwindling down to spring and soon, fresh grass will poke out through the icy sheet at their feet. He recalls the warmth of Kagami's hand around his own, drawing forth strength. "Let us do this properly, I will be asking the relevant questions and you will answer. Is that agreeable?"

Takao nods.

"When did your involvement with Kagami-kun start?"

"Late last spring. After that game when Tai-chan and the Miracles played three on three and it went to a double overtime." Takao found that it easier to come clean when Kuroko is leading the conversation. Unlike Kise who wants every single detail, Kuroko's interrogation is more objective… almost detachedly, so. Takao wonders what it would mean on Kagami's side of things. Their conversation last night was brief, though it might be a result of their respective losses taking its toll. Still, it was touching how Kagami continued to worry about him and he kind of feels bad now for finding solace in it.

"And it started because…?"

"Because we were stupid?" Takao decides to take a stab at lightening the mood but it falls short of bringing out more than a brief glint of amusement in Kuroko's eyes. Averting his gaze, Takao continues. "That and we kind of had… a problem… with you. Not _you_, specifically, but more of… the Miracles… in general." Kuroko's silence prompts him to elaborate. "I can't speak for Tai-chan, but for me it was jealousy. I see you guys together – all your walls unguarded – and I can't help feeling left out. I know my limits, I know where I stand but most of the time, it just hurts to know that I will never be at your level." He pauses for a breath and pushes off for a lazy swing, eyes up at the purple-orange sky. "I will never hold the same place in Shin-chan's eyes. This Generation of Miracles is something exclusive and I think, even if it's generally agreed that Tai-chan belongs with you guys, I think that he feels like an outlier. Just like me."

Kuroko had never considered that Kagami would be feeling lonely. Kagami is quite popular, as far he knows, though initially intimidating and afflicted with a basketball-centric mindset. The Kagami he knows is never without a hidden smile and is always up for a challenge, he doesn't have enemies because Kuroko is certain that whatever rivalries Kagami has it's rooted in good and trusty sportsmanship. So Kagami has rivals, teammates, friends, he has a mentor, a brother, he has Kuroko; for him to be lonely is simply unimaginable but apparently he is. And it is to Takao, of all people, that Kagami has chosen to reveal this secret.

"But as I've said," Takao speaks up when Kuroko's pensive silence stretches out too long. "We're just friends now."

Kuroko perks up, uttering his question to the darkening grounds. He thought they had made progress yesterday, him and Kagami. The Kagami that stood on court for the final half of the game is every bit the man that Kuroko has come to love. Even in defeat, after they have given their all for a chance at the championship, Kagami held his head high and Kuroko was proud to stand beside him, as is his rightful place. "What about before?"

"_Before_ is something that will never happen again." Takao chooses his words carefully, aware of the focus lurking underneath the shadows of Kuroko's features. "We had a… shared understanding and got a little bit too involved no thanks to his meddling non-brother. So now I'm paying the consequences and I really need your advice."

"Does this have anything to do with your talk with Kagami-kun before our match with Rakuzan?"

A mirthless laugh escapes Takao. His swing slows to a stop and he fixes Kuroko with a sober gaze. "You saw that photo from Saturday, I assume?" At Kuroko's nod, he continues. "Figures. Everyone else did, assumptions were made and things got messed up. Long story short, I had a fight with Shin-chan after our game yesterday and, well, Kagami had become my go-to person for specifically Miracle-related problems… So I went to him and he talked some sense into me and when we were hugging it out Shin-chan saw us." Takao shivers at the memory of green eyes alight with fury staring him down. His grip on metal chains tighten, coldness seeping into his hands. "I don't know the first thing about getting Shin-chan's forgiveness."

Kicking off, Kuroko opens himself to the night air's embrace, hair whisked about his face. Only the sound of the swing's creaking joints break the silence between him and Takao who has followed suit. It's liberating to finally get the full picture even if it does little in clearing away his uncertainties. Breath fogging, Kuroko slows down and Takao does the same. Their eyes meet. "I'm sorry, Takao-kun, but I cannot say for certain what kind of apology would be most acceptable to Midorima-kun."

"But – you went to middle school together! You were on the same team for three years!" Takao exclaims, distraught. "Surely there've been fights or even disagreements of some sort!"

"There were," Kuroko admits. "But Midorima-kun is a pacifist and prefers to stay out of trouble in most situations. In any case, the solution lies not on whoever knew him the longest but on the one who knows him best."

Takao messes up his hair, making a frustrated sound as he does. "Well, shit. I am definitely screwed."

"And why is that?"

"Because if there's anyone who hates me more than Shin-chan does right now, it's probably Akashi," Takao states bitterly. "Just between you and me, Kuroko, there is no bigger threat to my peace of mind than the idea of Akashi Seijuro's utter disproval of me being Shin-chan's partner. Was their breakup really that bad that he can't move on?"

Kuroko manages a polite smile. "They were never in a romantic relationship, Takao-kun. I will not presume to put a label on what it is exactly but it is undeniable that the feeling is mutual."

"Then what the hell am I even fighting for?" Takao complains to the descending dusk. The heavy air cloaks him and he kicks at the fallen snow, petulant.

"Only you can answer that, Takao-kun," Kuroko says, hopping off his swing and adjusting the bag strap over his shoulder. It wouldn't be fair if he just hands over the answer, not when the depth of Kagami and Takao's "friendship" had just dealt him a disconcerting awakening. Besides, from what he has seen of the Shutoku tandem, Kuroko is certain that Midorima treats his shadow more specially than the rest. It's different from how Midorima used to tail Akashi in middle school. With Takao, Midorima has someone to walk beside him – not to lead or to follow but to stand on equal footing. Kuroko expects him to value a person more than his ridiculous lucky items because if Midorima doesn't, then he wouldn't be the only losing side in their complicated situation.

Sensing that their little talk has come to its end, Takao straightens up as well. He sighs, "Maybe it'll come to me in a dream. Anyway, thanks for seeing me."

"Don't mention it. Though I have to ask, why aren't you in uniform?"

"Skipped school," Takao answers flippantly, going over to his bicycle. "Shin-chan probably doesn't want to see my face anyway. I had lunch with Kise-chi, then we went shopping – oh, that reminds me." Takao takes a wrapped package from the basket upfront. "I got you this – actually, it's more like Kise-chi and I but, anyway – here."

Kuroko opens the small paper bag to find a pair of cuffs, the dark leather material contrasting against his pale complexion.

"It reminded us of those sweatbands you wear during games," Takao explains gleefully. "Accessorizing is fun, y'know? Kise wanted to get you a studded pair but I told him there's no way you'd wear something so flashy… Not yet at least."

"Thank you for the gift, I'll find an occasion to wear them properly," Kuroko says with a tiny grin. "Though I have to ask you not to turn me into Kise-kun's next makeover project."

Takao laughs. "Funnily enough, Kise-chi _did_ mention something like that."

They reach the sidewalk where the pedestrian signal tells them not to cross just yet. Takao sets up his bike, ready to ride off at the next signal change when Kuroko tugs at his sleeve.

"One last thing, Takao-kun." Kuroko's eyes gleam with the brisk intensities of passing traffic, warm bursts of lights streaking over his pale features. He's not sure if he has a right to know but the curiosity in him is burning. Given the nature of their talk just now, he has decided to believe in Takao's honesty. He also knows now of Takao's true potential as a rival, so he really _has_ to ask – "In your conversations with Kagami-kun, has he mentioned special interest in… someone?"

Sitting atop his bike, Takao lights up with a smile at the question. "Matter of fact he did." He lifts one hand from gripping the handlebars and gives his fellow shadow a pat on the head. "Good luck, Tetsu-chan!"

Kuroko goes still at the nickname, a warm flush rising unbidden under his skin as he lets go of Takao's sleeve in surprise. Names are not supposed to be used so carelessly, so casually, but Takao does it with easy grace and confidence. Traits that Kuroko envies and admires in equal measure. In a blink, Takao is gone, pedaling away with the green lights clearing his path. Everyone else is crossing to the other side, walking fast to reach the adjacent sidewalk before the lights change again. Kuroko pats his hair back into place and moves forward, moves in the opposite direction from where Takao is going, knowing they still have a long road ahead of them.

The third place battle for the Winter Cup is the day after tomorrow.


End file.
